


The Dark Trio

by Bookwormread101



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Black Hermione Granger, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Ron Weasley, Dark Trio, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Hogwarts, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Magic, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mental Instability, Mentions of Cancer, Molly Weasley Bashing, Multi, Mythology References, Other, Paganism, Severus Snape Bashing, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Dark Trio, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Untalkable topics, Wicca, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24148282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwormread101/pseuds/Bookwormread101
Summary: What if one event in the past forever changed the future? The Golden Trio makes a decision on the train during their first year of Hogwarts, which soon lands the entire world into a reign of terror. With Hermione, a girl bundled in mystery as the brains. Ron, the sadist as the strategist. And finally, Harry, the emotionally unavailable as the power, the whole world didn't know what hit them.Was called "And Three Makes It Whole" realized how corny it sounded and is now called "The Dark Trio"Updates occur every one or two months cuz I'm a busy person who started a fanfiction to ignore my busy person stuff.CHAPTER 5 IS OUT!
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Dumbledore/The Greater Good, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Lee Jordan/Fred Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 41
Kudos: 315





	1. Where It Began

**HARRY**

It was a blistering hot day here in Surrey. Parents staying inside enjoying the benefits of air conditioning; children opting to stay outside, having fun with their friends and playing in pools. But yet, not here on number four Privet Drive. Harry Potter sat in the backyard of his Aunt and Uncle's house currently de-weeding Aunt Petunia's vegetable garden. It's not that Harry disliked caring for the garden, it was the very fact that after he was done pruning the garden he would be welcomed with more chores, and the belittlement from his so called relatives. See, Harry Potter has been living with the Dursleys for 5 years. 5 miserable years in this dreaded hellhole. He doesn't even recall ever feeling happy one day in his life. For he was often bullied by his cousin Dudley and his group of friends.

At school, Harry had no friends, he was either deemed as a freak or an outcast. Not to mention he was the shortest kid in his class, which made him an "easy target". Any person that was interested in becoming Harry's friend would soon be chased off by Dudley. But Harry didn't care, he saw himself above all of them. It all started with something Harry labeled as 'magic' after an incident with Dudley and his friends when he was in kindergarten.

______Flashback______

Harry was sitting outside for recess, reading a book on Norse Mythology when Dudley decided to waddle up to him. Every time Harry sees Dudley he can't help but feel disgusted whenever he sees his cousin. He was a fat lard sack of diabetes and heart issues hideously wrapped up in a bundle of blonde hair that was terribly combed over to one side of his head. No one was able to tell that he and Dudley were even related (and thank goodness for that). Harry stuck out like a thumb with his black hair that simply pointed in all directions, bright green eyes, and knobbly knees compared to the family of two blond gorillas and a horse.

"Aww, look here guys, it's my stupid cousin reading a book." Dudley sneered, laughing as his friends hyped him on. Not to also mention Dudley was... not the sharpest... nor the brightest tool in the shed.

"Dudley, that sentence was wrong in many ways. How can I be stupid when I'm reading a book clearly above your reading level? Why don't you count to 10 for me without using fingers and we'll see who the actual stupid one is." Harry said while turning another page on his book. A crowd began forming around Harry and Dudley.

Dudley and his gang of friends laughed at him, which made his face turned into a bright shade of red, that closely resembled a tomato. "Well..." Dudley's eyes looked over the playground. "At least my parents are alive." The crowd gasped. Harry rolled his eyes at their antics. Seriously, why would he be upset about people that he even hardly remembers!

Now, Harry sat looking over his book. That escalated quickly, really quickly. While he appeared calm and collected on the outside, on the inside, he was idly thinking on how everyone in the park should be groveling at his feet, begging for mercy. Harry felt the air around him shift, the very blood in his veins thrumming with anticipation. The crowd that surrounded him suddenly had their eyes wide open in surprise as they dropped their knees to the ground and bowed towards him, and Dudley was the one grovelling the most towards him, his nose nearly buried beneath the ground. It was actually quite a disgusting sight. And to that very day Harry recalls a foreign feeling within his bones... it was the feeling of pleasant sparks flowing through his arms. Harry recalls feeling tired for at least three hours. And since that day with his display of power almost everyone had avoided him, except for the teachers that saw Harry as a star pupil.

It was even more hilarious seeing Dudley afraid of him. When Auntie and Uncle dearest tried to ask Dudley what was the matter with him, Dudley only shook his head in fear. And Harry felt even more empowered seeing the fear struck expression on his face.

Of course Harry had enjoyed this immensely. But it was lonely for quite some time, he hoped that there was someone on the same type of equal caliber had the same potential as himself. While it was quite odd for Harry to experience a thing called... emotions. Harry believed he was capable of having emotions, it would just be very, very, very rare to happen. With his treatment from the hands of his "loving" family, the treatment of his own pupils made him become very foreign to things such as love, joy, happiness, and sadness. There was a time when he thought that his family actually loved him (yeah, yeah, hard to believe right?) well it's just when the Dursleys would drag him into church they would receive praises for taking in poor, little orphan Harry. They would lavish him in public, but be even quicker to neglect him.

____End Flashback______

And since then, Harry has been practicing on how to bring that very feeling of magic back. Nights he spent in the cupboard just trying to summon the humming sensation within him. Harry grumbled under his breath as he dug out a weed that seemed to be rooted in the center of the Earth. That was when he heard joyful laughter from his dearest relatives. It made Harry mad, while he's outside working like a mule, his relatives sat inside enjoying the benefits of air conditioning and chardonnay. His green eyes darkened and invisible wisp of air flapped his baggy clothes and hair. Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle came blundering into the backyard, he had a vacant look to his face as he stood in front of Harry, with his wife Petunia following right behind him. Dudley walked over to stand next to his mother and father in the single file line that was formed in front of him.

Harry was lost for a second. Why were they acting like this? But recognizing the pleasant thrumming in his skin, the feeling of anger vanished, and he embraced the magic that was swirling within him. And he felt a change within himself, he became slightly taller, his hair once a regular black, now seemed to be even darker than vantablack.

He imagined his sweet relatives neck's snapping, he wanted to hear the the joints first crack then soon snap as their heads turned farther than supposed to. When he heard the satisfying cracks and bodies thump onto the ground. Harry felt free, he felt a smile reach his face, touching his face Harry knew what this emotion was... it was joy. So his emotions helped him bring a tie to his magic. But how could he summon it without emotions? 

Leaving his relatives unattended Harry set forth to head to the library. Maybe some outside sources would help with gathering the information he needed. 

What Harry didn't notice was his neighbor, Mrs. Figg looking out the window seeing the orphaned boy walking on his own. She picked grabbed some floo powder and tossed it into her fire, hoping to contact Dumbledore on what she saw from the Dursley Household... but he never answered.

Heading towards the library was an easy task to accomplish. Harry decided that the best way to get a library card without having the librarian scold at him would be to act sweet and innocent. When he opened to the doors, he was greeted with the smell of new books and old books alike, a weird scent that pleased him. 

He walked in shyly looking at the collection of books in childish wonder. When Harry was sure that the librarian was watching him, he made sure to stumble over his own feet, with his head tilted down to peek through his bangs and saw the librarian giggle at his little mishap. He approached the counter where she was sitting at.

"Hello!" Harry greeted cheerfully.

"Well, hello young man. What can I do for you today?" She asked, smiling down at Harry. 

While Harry felt slightly bad for manipulating this woman, he shoved it down quickly, reminding himself that he was better than her. For he had magic... that could only work with his emotions.

Harry began sniffling, "I lost my library card. I really wanted to read some more books, but the meanies at my school threw it away."

The librarian smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry young man, I'll just need to grab some general information. Can you tell me your parents names that your library card was under?"

"Oh... my parents?" Harry thought desperately, "My parents are dead." He looked at the librarian with puppy eyes.

The librarian gasped. "I'm so sorry young man, just go ahead pick any book on the shelves. You're allowed to pick up to three books. Just make sure to return them okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Harry said sweetly turning away from the lady. He rolled his eyes as he strolled down the many aisles for the answers that he needed. 

The very hairs on the back of his neck began to bristle as he skimmed through one aisle. He followed the very feeling until he reached one book that had a faded title on it. He opened it and he felt his brain quickly gather with information at a inhuman speed. But yet, the pages of said book was blank; Harry tucked the book under his shirt and into his pants. Since Harry was allowed to pick out two more books he decided on getting a book on Psychology and a children's book on bedtime stories. Harry tucked the Psychology book in the same spot as the blank book.

Heading back to the librarian's desk, Harry decided on at least knowing the librarian's name. Looking at the name tag pinned on her shirt, it said: 'Mrs. Hickleberry'

"Thank you for letting me have this book, Mrs. Hickleberry." Harry said sweetly.

"No problem young man. Just make sure to return it." Hickleberry said shooing the boy off.

Harry left the library with a sinister smile on his face.

  
**HERMIONE**

Hermione ran into her bedroom and slammed her door, crying as her parents were arguing downstairs. Tears rolled down her face as her parents voices reaching a higher level. 

"She's not normal Helen!"

"She is special Greg! This is our little angel were talking about!"

"Well did you see our little angel just cause the death of a young boy few moments ago! What about the other time at school that Hermione turned one of her classmates into a rat because he made fun of her hair!"

Hermione heard her mom begin to whisper to her father. Hermione sat in a fetal position on her bed, her kinky hair that was once shaped into a respectable afro. It now had a large missing chunk of hair on her head. In her mind, she kept replaying the death of the boy she killed. He had made her so angry... his head just exploded spraying blood on the school yard. The sounds of police cars, of ambulances, or wails of others crying over a small child... he's not even worth their tears.

Hermione heard a soft knock on her door before it opened. Hermione's mother walked in, Helen Granger could light a room with her presence and could make anyone love her with just a smile. Hermione instantly wiped her tears away and ran into her mother's arms.

"Aw, Hermione." Helen said as she hugged her daughter. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I know bad things such as this happens to people like us."

Helen separated from the hug to look Hermione through her eyes. "But it only pushes us further to make things better. Now let me see your hair Hermione, I know just the perfect hairstyle for a wonderful child like you."

Grabbing hair products off of Hermione's nightstand, Helen sat in an armchair that Hermione often sat in to read books. Hermione sat on the floor in front of her only slightly sniffling.

"Mummy, I really didn't mean to hurt the boy. He was just always so mean to me, he called me bad words and I just wish he would just quiet down."

"What word did he call you Hermione? You can say it. But only this one time though." Helen said as she grabbed a spray bottle full of water and began spritzing it into Hermione's hair, softening it slightly and detangled with her hands.

"Well he's called me other names before... he's called me a know-it-all, a prissy, a bitch, then he called me the no-no word and cut my hair." Hermione said, her eyes beginning to droop as her mom began applying moisturizer and massaging it into her scalp.

"Was it the word that had historical context?" While Helen knew the last part of her sentence wouldn't be understandable for a regular six year old, she knew that Hermione understood what she meant.

"Yes mummy." Hermione said, her attention focused on her lap. Hermione felt a soft hand on her chin directing her to look towards her mother.

"I'm sorry baby. I never wanted you to go through problems like this."

"What can we do about it?" Hermione asked.

"I'm afraid we can't really do anything." Helen said as she started putting Hermione's hair into two puffs that covered up the bald spot in Hermione's hair. "The only thing we can do is... be better. Hermione you are a smart young lady, you have the most beautiful smile and hair along with the most radiant personality. People just want to take the things that we like and downplay it or take it as their own."

Helen stood up and began walking Hermione towards a mirror in the shared bathroom of their modest house. She turned Hermione around and set her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "But if you ask me. I believe that you can change anything you set your mind to. There will be hurdles along the way yes. But seeing what your mind is capable of, I'm sure you'll be able to do it."

Hermione stood transfixed as she looked at herself in the mirror standing in front of her mom. She looked towards her mom to see her beaming at Hermione through the mirror. The amount of love that simply filled that very room, and it was just for Hermione.

Hermione felt tears begin to gather in her eyes. Not of sadness, and not of anger. Hermione turned quickly to her mom and gave her the tightest hug she could.

"Thank you mummy." Hermione said.

"Oh sweetie. You're welcome."

**NEXT CHAPTER WILL FEATURE RON A CONTINUATION OF THE LAST EVENTS. PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW ON THIS STORY AND SHARE!**


	2. Where It Began Pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the last chapter.

**RON**

Ron was playing with a chess board at the dinning table while his mother was bustling throughout the kitchen. This chessboard once belonged to his great-grandfather and was usually passed down from father to son. But since the Great Wizarding War killed off his mother, Molly Weasley's brothers, Fabian and Gideon Prewett the chessboard was in her possession. Ron was the only one in his large family that actually took an interest in playing chess.

The ability to try to out think opponents was always something what Ron loved to do. The collection of sweat and battered breaths, the faux faces they would place on their faces to try to trick one another. The very thrill of that feeling was the best in Ron's opinion. Especially when his opponents had just assumed that since he was a kid, they would think it would be an easy play. Their shocked faces it was an enthralling thing really.

But anyways, here he was peacefully sitting at the dinning table that stood on it's rickety legs, ready to collapse at any given jostle or movement. It was only just a given that Fred and George would run through the kitchen hollering at the top of their lungs:

"Percy's coming back from Hogwarts tomorrow!"

"Aww, that sounds terrible Feorge."

"You can say that again Gred."

Ron rolled his eyes at their antics as he returned to studying the chessboard. What if he studied movements made in wars to have a better understanding at some of the decisions made in ancient history? Ron shook his head again as he heard his mother scolding Fred and George.

"You two need to stop with the yelling in this house!" Molly said waving her blubbery arms above her head her voice reaching a higher octave than the twins voices combined.

"But mum, you're the one that's yelling louder." Fred said softly... or was it George?

"George no back talking towards me!" 

"But I'm Fred mum!" Fred said with a genuine hurt look on his face. "I didn't say it. It was George!"

"Yeah! How can you call yourself mother when you can't tell the difference?" George said.

Ron decided to begin packing up his chessboard as he could feel the radiation of his mother's glare on the twins. Suddenly, a blazing trail of red hair flew into the kitchen. It was Ginny and she seemed to be skidding into the room and knocked herself into the table.

Ron could only helplessly watch as the table was knocked down along with the chessboard that he was in the middle of packing up.

Molly turned her attention towards the two, her beady glare now subjected towards Ron and Ginny.

Ron felt anger begin to rise within himself, "Ginny! You knocked down my chessboard! And you broke the table!" 

"Oh, it's okay Ron. Ginny didn't mean it." Molly said waving her hand in an endearing manner.

"It was great-granddad's chessboard! Look at it mum! It's broken to bloody pieces!" Ron yelled his face beginning to turn red. As Ginny still sat on the ground unharmed from the damage she caused.

"Oi! Ron we don't use such awful bloody language in this merlin-damned household!" Molly hollered as she set down her wooden spoon in a pot of red spaghetti sauce.

Ron raised his eyebrows at his mother, "Is Ginny your favorite mum?"

Fred and George looked at Molly sadly. For they knew the answer. Ginny could make any mistake that she wanted, and get away scot-free.

"What? No, Ronald. Why would I have favorites in such a large household?" Molly asked concerned with her hands on her hips, anger forgotten.

"Whenever Ginny does something wrong. She doesn't get in trouble. You remember all of my siblings favorite things, but you don't remember-"

"What? Of course I know what your favorites are Ronald. You like corned beef and maroon, your favorite game is quidditch and-"

"No mum." Ron said sadly as he looked down at his lap. "I don't like maroon or corned beef mum. My favorite game isn't quidditch. Bill liked maroon, Charlie liked corn beef. I'm playing chess right in front of you and you guessed quidditch. Whenever any of siblings gets in trouble they stand in the corner or do the chores for 30 minutes. But you always seem to forget that I'm here and my punishment extends from an hour to two hours. Ginny just broke our table, and my chess set that once belonged to great-granddad because she just ran throughout the house. Which might I add is a rule that you enforced. Mum, you say that you love us all equally, but it's not true." Ron finished his face turning red.

"You can't tell the difference between Fred or George. Fred has less freckles than George. George talks more than Fred does and is slightly taller than him. You didn't even see that you've upset Fred." Ron finished slightly out of breath.

Ron looked around and saw the shocked faces of the twins and Ginny. He slowly looked up at his mother's face to see her with a gobsmacked expression.

Ron stood up quickly, noting how the chair scrapped against the floor. He stood up and speed walked out and ran to his room.

Ron's room was at the very top of the Weasley Family Household. The house was painted in many colors and stood more rigged than a jenga building. The Weasley house had many stairs, 5 sets of stairs that are composed of 8 steps each. 

Reaching his room was no easy feat for a child his age to complete, but seeing as how Ron's been living in his room for three years now, it was quite simple. His room was filled to the brim with Chudley Cannon's posters and bright colors that just simply did not match Ron's overall mood. He sat on his bed heaving a sigh.

The ghoul in his mirror decided that he would make his presences known at this point. "What's got you upset? Was it your nose? You have a spectacle of dirt there."

Ron heaved another sigh, "No, it's just my mum. She just doesn't seem to like me. Even when it comes to dad, he favors Percy, but more in a subtle way. My siblings all have something that makes them special...while I'm just nothing."

"Then prove them wrong." The ghoul said.

"What?" 

"Prove to them that you are something."

Ron grinned at his mirror. "You know what...maybe that's what's it. I'll prove them wrong!" He jumped up from his bed and began tearing off the posters that lined nearly every corner of his room.

He tore down one poster that covered up a window, he saw two owls surrounded by baby owls. Ron felt jealous. It isn't fair that owls actually didn't favor their own children. He felt his eyes glow as both owls had their necks twisted 720* and their bodies hit the nest ground. His magic pushed over the nest as he watched the baby owls plummet to the ground.

Ron chuckled to himself as he heard the animals hit the ground.

"Dude, when I said to prove you are something, I didn't mean to prove that you're a fucking sadist." the ghoul said.

Ron turned his direction towards the ghoul and the mirror caught on fire. The ghoul in his mirror was choking on the smoke, gripping his throat. In those sweet and tender moments, Ron felt like he was in control. This was a far more pleasing feeling than chess. The ghoul's body disappeared from the mirror and that was when the fire fizzled out.

Ron began cackling quietly. Yes this was more pleasing than chess indeed.

5 YEARS LATER

**HARRY**

Harry walked back into Number 4 Privet Drive as his relatives aimlessly cleaned up the entire house. Now people may be wondering... how were the Dursleys alive after Harry killed them. Well, to answer that Harry had maybe did something that passed the laws of ethics. When he was six, he was so scared. Very scared in fact on the thought of policemen coming to Harry's residence and seeing dead bodies and an oblivious six year old standing in the middle of it.

He felt the very same trill of magic thrumming through his veins as his "beloved" families necks snapped back into their faces. Their eyes seemed glazed over as Harry looked at them in slight fear. Was this necromancy?

Harry had let the Dursleys have at least some free will, just to prevent questions. For example, when the Dursleys were outside working, Harry would work on the garden; making it seem like it was a joint effort on working together.

And since then, Harry had been practicing the limits of what his magic could do.

When Harry crossed through the door he felt his feet lightly touch a stack of envelopes. Harry bent over and gently picked them up, shuffling through them as he silently addressed the sweet smell of paper and ink. Utility bill, letter from Aunt Marge, report cards... and a letter for Harry.

"Vernon!" Harry yelled, as he felt his Uncle's lumbering footsteps reach him. "Pay these bills back, write back to Marge, and hit Dudley for his report card grades." Harry commanded.

Harry honestly didn't need to check his cousin's report card to know that Dudley was just slightly above the IQ of a five year old.

Harry looked at the letter in a bland expression, he expected this letter to come here. When his relatives were brought back to life under Harry's control, he demanded Petunia to tell him everything about his parents. He would have to be an idiot to believe the stories that the Dursleys came up with for his parents. 

Petunia had told him that his parents were wizards, and were killed by a mad wizard. She even grabbed a letter that was hidden in the attic inside of his mother's trunk. While the materials were most likely outdated, Harry still fervently studied whatever books were inside the trunk. There was even some nice letters that Harry saved that his mother (Lily Evans her name was) towards James Potter, Harry's father.

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All necessary books and equipment can be purchased at Diagon Alley. We await you and no later than 31 July._

_Please make your way to Kings Cross Station and onto platform 9 3/4 where you will meet the Hogwarts Express Term begins on 1 September._

_Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival. We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Hogwarts heritage._

_Due to our Owl Post owls being chased by cats we are now delivering the letters through Muggle Mail._

_Yours sincerely,_   
_Minerva McGonagall_   
_Professor Minerva McGonagall_   
_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry re-read the letter and decided to grab a pen and paper.

**HERMIONE**

Hermione woke from her slumber slowly. Stretching as she yawned, Hermione felt her joints pleasantly snapped after sleeping in one position throughout the night. She stood up from her bed and slowly made her way to the bathroom. Hermione first began her day by brushing her teeth. With her mother as a dentist, it was a habit installed within Hermione ever since she could reach the sink.

Hermione with a change of clothes headed downstairs into the usual tense silence since she killed the boy that made fun of her five years ago.

"Morning Mum!" Hermione chirped as her mother. Hermione pointedly ignored her father, ever since the incident, she hasn't been able to hold a conversation with him.

"Good morning Hermione." Helen Granger replied with her face lying on top of the cool surface that the table provided.

Hermione smiled sadly at her mother. She glanced at the colorful scarf that adorned her hair, Helen's eyes were sunken in, she seemed to get thinner before their eyes. her skin didn't have the same luster as it once had, Helen's smiles were even limited too... Hermione's mom was sick.

Really really sick. Three months ago, Helen was constantly puking. Often times, it was mingled along with blood. Until one day she passed out during work, she was found in the bathroom with bile surrounding her, with her skin feeling hot to the touch. Helen was taken to the hospital.

She had many screenings done until it was proven that Helen Granger had leukemia. It was a type of cancer around blood forming tissues. It made her joints hurt, and it made the spread of infections easier too.

Helen Granger also didn't seem to get any better. The treatments haven't done well so far. And not the mention, those treatments made Helen's hair thin and leave bald patches on her scalp. 

Helen Granger felt less of herself when she saw her hair slowly falling away. She felt like less of a women. The only time when she felt like she had some control over herself was when she shaved her head. Helen had began teaching Hermione how to take care of her hair... in case if her cancer defeated her.

Hermione grabbed some of the breakfast her dad made and sat silently at the table.

"You have some mail honey." Helen said as she handed the envelope to Hermione without taking her head off the table. Greg Granger sighed deeply, he had already read the content of the letter in there.

Greg looked across the table at Hermione and internally sighed. Don't get him wrong, he loved his daughter. But since she killed that boy over some silly words he couldn't help but just envision her future full of blood and crime. It disgusted him. Internally he knew who Hermione was and that she was a good person. Another part of him fears her over what she can do.

So, Greg opted to ignore her after causing several arguments, and heated tempers throughout his household. He popped a piece of bacon in his mouth as if it were to quiet down his thoughts.

Hermione opened her letter, and began reading it.

"Well, this is quite an odd scam." Hermione said as she set the letter next to plate of eggs, toast, and bacon.

"It's not." Helen said. "I come from a line of wizards and witches. But it's more... intense. My family deals with Hoodoo and a bit of Voodoo. That was my dad's line, and then my mother, her magic was more practical base, which is what you'll find here in Britain. But magic skipped me and it, well you obviously have magic." Helen said.

"Well... I guess that makes sense with some of the things that's happened. But why haven't you told me?" Hermione asked her head tilted sideways.

"Because, like it's user, it needs to mature and age. As you understand more of your emotions, the less uncontrolled it will be. The less it lashes out, unless you wish for it to. Magic while it is in almost everything, the ability to use it on the other hand is like a double edged sword. Which is why since the incident with the boy I make sure you always tell me your day, or ask about how your feel, make you meditate and do yoga."

"Hogwarts, while the school isn't as stellar as it used to be. It can be helpful to exercise the limits of what your magic is able to do." Helen finished, finally raising her head from the table.

"Wait I'm going? What about you? You're not well!" Hermione rapidly began, "WhatifsomethinghappensandI'mnotthereforyouIneedtostayherewithyoutomakesureyou'rehealthy-"

"Honey slow down!" Helen said. "Don't worry about me! I have your father with me."

Hermione glared at Greg.

"And I don't want you to waste such an opportunity such as this!" Helen said.

Hermione couldn't argue with her mother, she never had the heart to do so. And how excited she seemed, the life between her eyes brightened as she was talking about magic. "Okay mum, I'll do it. But I want as many books as possible for this."

Helen cheered as Greg felt some weight from his shoulder suddenly lift off of him.

**RON**

Ron sat at his desk that was passed down from Charlie. It had some small engravings and a bit of chipped wood to it. But Ron couldn't complain, this was probably the best condition of something that finally reached him in a lifetime.

He had books stacked on muggle and wizarding wars. Ron studied on movements, weaponry, and inventions that helped in war efforts. Ron spotted on how the sun while it wasn't directly in the middle of the sky, it was nearly there. Judging on the sun's position, Ron assumed that it was from 10:43 to 11:15.

Ron headed downstairs to see nearly everyone at the dinning table. "Ron! Your letter is here! Come here and read it" Ginny said.

Ron grabbed an apple of the counter, "No thanks. It's the same thing every year, what's the point anyway it was already read five times. Since your the only girl I think mum and dad would want to hear it though." Ron finished as he headed out the door.

He ignored the eyes of his family as he closed the door and headed towards the back. For the past five years Ginny had been getting on his nerves, every time she breathed it felt like he needed to yell at her.

The only people that never bothered him was actually Fred and George. Percy was too overbearing with his "I'm better than all of you" attitude. Charlie only cares about animals and not his family. Molly still played favorites but was trying so hard to kiss up to Ron. Arthur, Ron's father just read, slept, and breathed muggle obsession. Ginny...

Don't even get him started on Ginny. The sound of her voice just makes him want to strangle her. She always kissed up to mum and demanded attention every single minute. She was obsessed with Harry Potter, which was pretty creepy, the bloke was just a baby when the dark lord was offed.

Ron began drawing in the dirt on positions used in sports in order to win a game.

"Oi Ron!" Fred yelled as Ron looked up and to see his favorite set of twins walking towards him.

"Here's your letter." George said as both Fred and George sat on the dirty ground simultaneously.

Ron opened it and began reading, not noticing how Fred and George smiled at him.

"...through Muggle Mail." Ron finished. He smiled down at his letter, reading it in front of his entire family wouldn't have felt as special as it was reading it to the twins.

**NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE SHOPPING AND HOGWARTS SO BUCKLE YOUR SEAT BELTS.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait you guys. I had a lot of test to complete along with one of relatives passing due to our current pandemic. One of my siblings that I'm closest to moved out without warning (I am legit not lying about this crap, I feel like I need a TV show or something because of all the drama). I felt no motivation whatsoever and I had to sorta force myself to begin writing again, but thoroughly enjoyed it after. I hope that this chapter was to your liking, and as always leave a comment or kudos if you wish.


	3. Travels from Home to the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Trio goes to Diagon Alley and begins their travels to Hogwarts. Here these individuals meet allies and foes alike, all while coming to an important decision that shapes the rest of their lives.
> 
> This chapter focuses more on Hermione and Ron.
> 
> Since my first day of school started today, I'm posting the chapter I've been working on since July!

**HERMIONE**

Hermione’s mother, Helen Granger, had suggested that both Hermione and her father, Greg, went to Diagon Alley together tomorrow as she went out for treatment.

Hermione had wanted to go shopping in Diagon Alley with her mother instead of her father. Her mother was far more enjoyable than her father. Greg would usually find something to scold about within her, which would almost always be based on the time she killed that boy.

_ ___Flashback___ _

Hermione was in her classroom, her untameable black coily hair pushed back with a sturdy headband and a hefty amount of hair gel. She wore a beige long sleeve shirt that had cute frills along her wrist. Over the shirt was a navy blue dress that had a felt-like texture, long thin lines of red, and a light blue decorated the sides of Hermione’s dress, the straps having a similar design to overalls complete with adjusters. She even wore black mary jane shoes and light brown stockings.

She hummed to herself as she happily threw out her bag of sliced apples that her mother packed away in her backpack for snack time. On her bag of sliced apples, Greg and Helen Granger usually put sticky notes with positive messages.

_ Love you!  _ The note said. Hermione smiled at the message.

So far, her day was going pretty well. Chasity and her tomboy gang haven't cornered her during bathroom break, Anna didn’t try to copy off her math work, Telma hasn’t said anything about her teeth either!

Hermione grabbed her favorite doll that she packed away in her bag, as her teacher, Mrs.Jennings announced that they would be going outside for recess. Maybe today was the day to finally make her first friend. (While Mrs.Jennings is her best friend she wanted someone her age). The doll she held looked almost exactly like Hermione too, that could probably be a good conversation starter.

Hermione skipped happily into the schoolyard while holding onto Mrs.Jennings hand. Her smile reached her eyes. “Mrs.Jennings, I’m going to make a friend today!”

The tall woman beside Hermione had short grey hair that reached her very prominent ears. She smiled back at Hermione, her wrinkles becoming less prominent, “Oh, that’s wonderful Ms.Granger! Who is this new friend going to be?” 

“I don’t know! But isn’t it exciting!” Hermione smiled painfully widened as she jumped in the air with joy.

Hermione let go of Mrs.Jennings hand and began to look around the schoolyard. She then noticed a lone girl on the swings, with her head down shyly looking at her dangling feet. Hermione knew what it felt like to be alone, so she decided on heading towards her.

_ Okay.  _ Hermione thought to herself.  _ Remember what the article told you. Smile, eye contact, and conversation starters.  _

Hermione sat down on the swing next to the little girl. She had thin brown hair that was styled in pigtails and horrid bangs that weren’t cut properly into a straight line. Hermione slowly reached her arm out towards the girl that sat next to her, her smile seemed nearly blinding.

“You’re Hermione Granger, right?” The girl said, her appearance suddenly changing. Now in the swing was a woman with carob brown skin. 

Her natural hair was tucked into a long black wig styled in braids that were stiffened with beeswax. Hermione noted how the woman adorned ivory and gold headpiece of cow horns with a sun disk sitting right between the cow horns. Her eyes were lined black eyeliner that reached her temples. The woman wore an orange dress that covered the majority of her womanly parts, for the straps of her dress only covered her nipples. Her face seemed to hold a regal quality that radiated power and authority.

Hermione, recognizing who this woman was, began to bow down towards her while still seated in her swing. “Hathor, goddess of the sky, women, love, children, childbirth, and fertility. The Lady of Stars, Lady of the West, Sovereign of Stars, the Mother of Mothers, the patroness of death. Formerly known as Sekhmet, goddess of the sun, war, destruction, healing, and plague; The Red Lady, The Scarlet Lady, The Lady of Terror, The Lady of Life, The Lady of Pestilence, the protector of Ma’at. It’s the highest honor for you to grace me with your presence.”

Hathor smiled at the young child that bowed before her. “Oh Hermione, my lovely little malachite. There’s no need to be so formal with me.” Hathor giggled, as she gently hit Hermione’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Hermione only owlishly blinked towards the Deity. She cleared her throat nervously, “Hathor, may I ask with the utmost respect, what brings you here? Usually, gods and goddesses don’t appear like this.” Hermione bit on her lip nervously. She looked around the schoolyard to see if anyone noticed them, but was surprised that no one seemed to see the pair. “And it’s not like I wish you weren’t here…”

Hermione was able to hear Hathor laugh. Hathor’s laugh was as calming as the sea during the night, but it was as loud as bells ringing together. “I’m allowing only you to see me, my little malachite. I’ve been evaluating you this whole year, and I’ve taken a liking to you. Not to mention, the Seven Hathors have seen what your life will be and I’m very… interested.”

Hermione was about to say something but was interrupted by Hathor, “I’m guessing that your mother taught me everything about me?” Her onyx eyes boring into Hermione’s eyes.

“Of course my Deity, my mother made sure that I knew our family’s patron goddess along with my family’s... practice. I love reading books too, and I’ve always been interested in Egyptian Pantheon.”

“Well, today is your day to prove yourself worthy now,” Hathor said.

Hermione felt her heart rate jump. Her mother has mentioned this to her ever since she started primary school. Hathor hasn’t visited her family for over twelve generations. It was considered an honor to be seen as worthy of Hathor’s protection. But the price was to kill someone.

Hermione was about to kindly reject Hathor’s offer. She never wanted to kill a person (besides, she heard tales from her family members that had done Hathor’s request and turned into mad blood-driven animals). That was when a boy with blond hair began to walk up to Hermione and Hathor’s spot.

Hermione internally sighed, she forgot about Casey. He was one of Hermione’s main bullies. Casey would point out anything about her to complain about. It would be her hair, teeth, her annoying voice, use curse words, or anything dealing with being close with their teacher Mrs.Jennings.

“If it isn’t the teacher’s pet,” Casey said.

“Leave me alone Casey,” Hermione warned, while she peeked over at Hathor, who narrowed her eyes at the small boy. Hermione felt sweat begin to drip down her back if Casey continued what he was doing...

“What are you going to do you little bitch? Tch, I bet you’re just going to run to Mrs.Jennings” Casey said as he began laughing.

Hermione was glad that for once no one was paying attention to their little squabble. Hathor looked at the boy as if she were about to tear him apart limb from limb, she growled at Casey.

Casey had a look of fear over his face as he looked over to Hathor, but quickly concealed his look of terror. “And what are you looking at you bint?” Hathor began to stand but Hermione was quicker.

“Casey, can’t you do this at a different time?” Hermione held onto Hathor’s hand, missing how surprised she looked at Hermione doing such a simple action. She began to march away from the snotty boy, while gently guiding Hathor with her. Hermione was beginning to feel angry. If Casey knew exactly who this person was, he would’ve shit himself for sure.

“I’m not done with you!” Casey yelled, grabbing Hermione by the hair, Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sick and tired of you acting better than all of us! You walk as if you own this place!” 

Hermione tried to leave his grip, thus letting go of Hathor’s hand. “Casey, what in the gods name is wrong with you!” she tried to use her elbows, and feet to hit him.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!” Casey yelled. “You’re so dark, you look like a walking demon! When the lights go out. I can only see your eyes and teeth!”

Hermione gasped, her eyes showed how hurt she felt over his comment. Her back was hunched backward, Casey’s hand gripped tightly on about an eighth of her hair pulling harshly near her scalp. She looked around to see if anyone was watching, only now realizing the sea of kids that surrounded her, nearly all of the teachers trying to reach the center of the circle.

That was when she heard a snip, as she fell to the ground. Hermione immediately put her hand to the missing section of hair, her eyes filling with tears. She heard the crowd gasp.

“I have the n*****’s hair!” Casey laughed, raising the section of Hermione’s hair in his clenched fist as if it were a trophy. The pair of scissors he hid in his pocket, now laid on the ground.

Hermione was still on the ground, tears rolling down her eyes. She looked up at Casey in anger and sadness. His laughter ringing within her head along with the surrounding crowd’s gasp.

_ No one helped me.  _ Hermione thought.  _ They all just watched me get humiliated, dehumanized...violated… and no one helped me. _

Hermione continued glaring at him as teachers finally reached the center of the gathering. Hermione had the urge to choke him. Maybe then he would choose his words properly. She wanted to cut off his hands. Maybe then he would learn to keep his hands to himself.

The teachers began to drag away Casey, they had made him drop the section of Hermione’s hair. She held onto her hair in her left hand as Hermione began to shake slightly. Her thoughts of Casey’s torment filling her mind.

She then began to hear screams of terror and pain as Hermione focused back on reality. Casey laid on the grass a few meters away from where Hermione stood. Hermione’s face paled as she saw Casey’s hands cut off.

Casey’s throat seemed to be crushed as if it were a soda can, but his head… it had exploded. The pressure from the hold splattered his blood and brains nearly everywhere. Luckily Hermione was spared from the spraying of blood. But the teachers escorting him...not so much. His red blood painted the grass on which he laid, along with a puddle of blood still forming beneath him. What was frightening besides the blood and the smell of human waste leaving Casey’s corpse, was that his limbs were still moving, the nerves causing his body to have slight spasms.

Hermione’s mouth was open in horror, had she done that? Some of the teachers that had escorted him either threw up or passed out.

Hathor put her hands on Hermione’s shoulders and put her mouth next to Hermione’s ears. “Well done my little malachite… you are worthy.” and she disappeared.

When the parents arrived to pick up their children, Hermione was still out in the schoolyard in disbelief. There was a small rumor going around that she was the one who killed Casey, but it was quickly dispelled due to Mrs.Jennings.

“Ms.Granger is a kind and gentle young lady. It was unfortunate that she was the victim of racism and bullying while under our care! If I hear any whisper or thought of this rumor, they will be quickly expelled! What happened to young Casey Wellback was an unfortunate accident!” Mrs.Jennings yelled while parents were huddled with their children.

Hermione was beginning to hate Mrs.Jennings. This school never addressed their problems when it concerned bullies, but right when the spotlight was facing towards the school, and it’s faculty they finally did something to stop it. Hermione felt a frown making its way on her face.

Police and ambulances had arrived, questioning everyone especially Hermione on what happened. In the end, everything was ruled as an unfortunate accident. During the ride home, Hermione began to tell them what happened. She avoided mentioning that she met Hathor, but she did tell them the truth about everything else. Her parents had begun arguing as soon as they were inside the house, Hermione ran upstairs and tucked herself in her bed as their voices reached a higher octave. 

When it was bedtime, Hermione looked in her book bag for her doll and was saddened to realize she left it outside in the schoolyard. When she went back to bed, her doll sat on her bed, wearing the same hairstyle as Hermione (She even had the section of missing hair). 

There was a note attached to the doll.  _ Sweet well my little malachite.  _

Hermione smiled as she fell asleep blissfully. Maybe being Hathor’s follower won’t be so bad.

_ ___Flashback End___ _

Hermione was snapped back into reality as she heard her father honk the horn of his car. While she would rather spend time with her mother. She long since gave up that her father would forgive her. Hermione had shoved down her feelings of hurt when she realized that Greg probably doesn’t even love her anymore. The sad thing is, a small part… a very, very small part within Hermione that she buried within her soul wanted to be close again with her father. 

Hermione couldn’t help it as a sad sigh escaped from within her. At least she has Hathor and her mother at least for now. So far, for the five years, she has worked with Hathor, Hermione had left offerings for her that would be able to fit in her Altoids tin. It would usually be cosmetics such as lipgloss or small containers of perfume she would buy at stores.

Hermione was supposed to meet with one of the professors at a store called ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ that was in London. Greg was forced to park his car a few blocks away from the location that Professor McGonagall wrote on a piece of paper. Hermione was easily able to find the store much to Greg’s confusion.

The inside of The Leaky Cauldron was dank and crowded. Hermione scrunched her nose at the filth that surrounded the small building. There were rats holed up in corners, some mysterious stains on the furniture, and middle-aged men in there that looked like they haven’t showered in months. And the entire establishment looked as if it had a theme of life in the 1700s, maybe even some of the 1800s.

Hermione and Greg looked at each other and reached a silent agreement. They weren’t going to sit anywhere in this filth. That was when Hermione had a feeling of another source of power, and it seemed to be daring her to look at its creator. She scanned the crowd until her eyes saw a boy with copper skin, and vantablack hair. His eyes looked like malachites, framed with circular glasses.

And that was when they locked eyes.

**RON**

Ron headed back inside after reading his letter to Fred and George. Ever since Ron threw his temper tantrum at his mother, Fred and George had been lenient with Ron when it came to pranks. He wasn’t sure if it was the twins showing that they appreciated what Ron had said that day, or if they were psychologically trying to make him go insane.

Ron’s smile faded from his face as he saw his family standing in front of the fireplace. He didn’t wish to go shopping with his large family. They were brash when out in public places, earning glares from other shoppers which is quite embarrassing. Ron tended to try to stay behind his family, preferably from a distance. But luckily, with how his family operates, they’ll most likely forget about him and he’d be able to travel freely with Fred and George. 

He headed towards the fireplace, mentally sighing as he was put in a line for floo powder. His father, Arthur, had gone first. Scooping a fistful of the powdery green substance, Arthur walked into the fireplace and tossed it into the orange flames. And with a shout of ‘Diagon Alley’, he was enveloped in a green flame and disappeared. Ron watched as Percy, Fred, and George went. When it was his turn Ron felt excited and anxious at the same time. It felt like a bowling ball weighing down his stomach with butterflies fluttering within it. Scooping up the powder it felt like a finer, smoother texture compared to sand. While it was quite easy for some of the floo powder to escape from his hold, in his grip it felt more compressed and solid. Walking straight into the fireplace he threw down the powder.

“Diagon Alley!” Ron said clearly, watching as the green flames covered him.

And that was how Ron ended up in the Leaky Cauldron. He never really liked it here, the wizards would smoke some odd substance that made him want to hurl on the spot. Brushing himself off from the soot that was on him. 

“Ron!” His father called walking over to him, checking for any injuries.

“Dad, I’m fine,” Ron said, still brushing some of the soot off. Arthur grabbed his wand that was held within a pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“Tergeo,” Arthur said pointing his wand towards Ron. The dirt and soot were gently pulled away from his skin and vanished.

“Thanks,” Ron said, smiling lightly to show his gratitude.

But that was when Ron felt something… something that was calling Ron to look towards a certain direction. It gave an aura of authority, respect, and… power. Did no one else feel this? 

When Ron found who it was, he was entranced. It was a boy with caramel skin, his hair was darker than midnight black. His eyes… dear Merlin… his eyes. They seemed like emeralds and his eyelashes were the crowning jewel. He wore circular glasses, which seemed to emphasize how wonderful his eyes seemed. A blush began to form on Ron’s face as he looked at him.

The boy was looking at someone, so Ron turned his attention towards who the boy was looking at. And Ron felt his blush begin to intensify a girl with dark skin that resembled mocha. She had black coily hair that reached slightly above the midpoint of her back, and it was very frizzy too. Her eyes seemed to either be dark brown or black but with Ron being so far from her, he couldn’t tell. That was when he saw the male and female beauty turn their attention towards him. Was it normal to feel like he had a sudden nosebleed? The two figures smiled at Ron as his appearance suddenly looked similar to a ripe tomato.

Unbeknownst to Ron, the knowing glances that Fred and George were giving each other as they witnessed the blushing fest that Ron had just put on. With a silent exchange of coins, Fred was suddenly 3 galleons richer.

“I told you he was also into blokes Gred. Should’ve believed me after I told you I was androsexual.” Fred whispered with a slight grin.

George punched Fred’s shoulder gently, “Oi, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you’re an expert Feorge.”

“Oi! I’m not gay!” Fred yelled, blushing under the gaze some of the people in the establishment gave him, luckily the other Weasley’s being the bickering bunch they are, haven’t overheard. “I told you what androsexual means already! But this just proves that I am an expert. You may now call me the LGBT+ Guru.” Fred said, his voice continuing at a softer tone smiling at George.

“I will not call you that,” George said laughing. “Let's set up another bet then… shall we?”

“How about… 20 galleons.” 

“Oh, you’re on Feorge. Now let's set the terms.”

Ron turned back to face his family, his mother had recently come through the fireplace and already had the soot cleaned off of her too. Molly was currently trying to gather her children and usher them through the brick wall. Ron sighed to himself as he speed-walked to catch up with his family.

His body was soon moving in autopilot mode as he aimlessly followed behind the large herd of redheads. He didn’t even notice when Fred and George had sandwiched him between their bodies.

“So, Ickle Ronniekins.” George began.

“You swing both ways? The scales are balanced? Your leveler is centered? The-” Fred continued before bring cut off by Ron

“What do you mean?” Ron snarled indignantly, his blush reappearing now spreading towards his ears and neck.

“You’re part of the LGBT+,” Fred said softly.

“Even if I am part of…” Ron began, seeing the grins that formed on their faces made him quickly back peddle. “Which I’m not!” Ron cried holding his hands up, and the grins on the twins’ faces became more wolfish, which miffed Ron.

“Oh, Ickle Ronniekins.” Fred tsked as he shook his head softly back and forth. 

“You’re such a terrible liar.” George said, copying Fred’s movements in sync. 

“We saw the blushing fest you put on there in the Leaky Cauldron. You should learn how to deceive others before trying to deceive us first.” Both Fred and George said at the same time.

“How do you speak the same lines at the same time?” Ron mused out loud.

“It’s in a ritual.” George only said.

“Okay, don’t tell me then.” Ron grumbled under his breath. As Fred and George shrugged, it truly was in a ritual to be able to read each other’s minds.

“Stop evading.” Fred frowned with eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed. It was rare for Fred to appear angry or serious, Ron shuffled his feet together.

“If you are LGBT+, I am simply trying to warn you. Mum and Dad don’t like people like me.” Fred said Ron looked up in surprise.

“You’re gay?” Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“No! Why does everyone always go straight to gay! I'm an androsexual!” 

“It means that Freddie is attracted to masculinity, and it’s usually a person who’s non-binary or both man and woman. Freddie here is genderfluid.” George grinned at Fred, who kicked at the ground pathetically.

“Well, today I feel more of a male than a female so George is calling me Fred and is using male pronouns towards me. If I felt more female than male, I like going by Faith. Unless we are around family, I would be called Fred and use male pronouns. Luckily for you Ron, you are one of the very few people who are of knowledge of this.” Fred finished.

Ron had understood the underlying message as to what Fred meant. “Okay, so I am attracted to males and females. Why do you ask?”

“Well, Freddie and I here reckon that-” George was cut off by the hollering of Molly Weasley.

“1,2,3,4,5...” Molly stood on her tippy toes counting her family, from Arthur, Ginny, Percy, the twins. Molly gritted her teeth as she tried to remember something.

“What’s the matter Molly dear?” Arthur said.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something… but what?”

“You forgot me,  _ Mum _ ,” Ron said, raising his hand, with a deadpan look on his face. “Again.”

“Sorry, Ron.” Molly gloomily said before pushing her large collection of children into a bookstore.

The rest of the shopping trip at Diagon Alley was all a bore to him. He didn’t even have the chance to experience the most exciting part of the trip for soon-to-be Hogwarts students, getting his own wand.

The Weasley family was known for being dreadfully poor, but having a large abundance of children. Ron knew that he would be stuck with one of his siblings' wands. It was Charlie’s wand that seemed to be in the best condition compared to the others that were stored in a box in his father’s shed.

The days left of summer vacation slowly passed by. With each day, the excitement began to eat away at Ron at the prospect of being away from Molly and Ginny. To pass the time, Ron had read some of the course material and practically devoured the History text. Soon it was the day before heading to Hogwarts, nearly all of Ron’s siblings had gone to bed early so the day for Hogwarts would just approach faster.

**HERMIONE**

Hermione woke to her alarm loudly waking her from her sleep. She yawned while rubbing her eyes. She blearily looked at her calendar and saw it was the first day of September. Suddenly energized, Hermione quickly shot off her bed and ran into the bathroom. 

Hermione brushed her teeth first, then washed her face. Taking off the silk scarf that adorned her hair showed cornrows that were neatly done, with her baby hairs being gently swopped in with the cornrow. the braids reaching the bottom part of her shoulder blades. It took ages learning how to cornrow, better yet, doing it on her own head.

Hermione was so excited about going to Hogwarts she had her outfit set and packed her trunk five times. Yes, she packed her trunk a total of five times. She kept finding new stuff to add to it. What if she suddenly had her period? Did she pack all her books? Did she need to pack detergent to wash her clothes? Was there enough toothpaste and toothbrushes in her trunk? Did she pack enough training bras? What if her clothes don’t fit her during a growth spurt?

Luckily when Hermione went into Diagon Alley, her father was able to buy a trunk that had expansion charms placed on it. Professor McGonagall had been a great help with making sure that Hermione was at least knowledgeable with information on the wizarding world. When she was in the bookstore she had asked her professor if there were any books on wizarding etiquette. When Hermione read the book she was honestly disappointed, so far both of the world’s that she lives in won’t accept her either way. 

In the Muggle world (a word for describing non-magical folk) she is looked down upon for her skin, along with her features, and stereotypes that stemmed from slavery and early television. In the magical world, people were looked down upon due to their blood. Hermione didn’t even know what her blood would even be considered as in the magical world. The ranking system went from other species to muggles, squibs, halfbreeds, halfbloods, and purebloods. Hermione’s mother, Helen Granger is a squib… would being the child of a squib-

Hermione shook her head sadly, quickly trying to shake the thought from her mind. She closed her trolley and gazed towards her window. Should she even consider going to this school? Hermione sighed to herself.

“What are you sighing for? It’s the first day of your magical school.” Hathor said, magically appearing on top of Hermione’s bed.

Hermione silently epped and her body tensed. She immediately began floating upside down, she held herself in a fetal position. Hermione looked towards Hathor, with a sheepish smile that showed off her buck teeth. Hathor looked at Hermione in amusement and fondness while her eyes held a distant look.

“My Lady!” Hermione said as Hathor began helping her down. Hathor smiled towards Hermione as she gently touched the ground with her feet. Hermione ran over to her door and closed it.

“Hello, my little malachite. Are you excited for your official first day as a witch!” Hathor said watching Hermione looking out towards the window.

“Well, yes I am. But…” Hermione bit her lip.

“You’re afraid of how you would be treated in this new world. You worry if you won’t make friends. Not to also mention you worry that you will forget about your mother.” Hathor said gently.

“Yes!” Hermione said her attention back towards the goddess in her room. “How did you know?”

Hathor ignored her question, as she clapped her hands together. “I have two questions. May I see your trunk? And my second question is: where is the Altoids tin can?”

Hermione’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion but grabbed said items. Handing them over to Hathor, she noticed how her eyes held a concentrated look.

“I hope you do know you are my favorite little malachite Hermione. You are the best follower I ever had.” Her hands glowed red as she touched the trunk, the Altoids tin magically disappeared.

“Why thank you my Deity.” Hermione sincerely said with a bright smile while bowing.

“I’m giving you a gift. I first expanded your trolley even more. This trolley can only be opened by you. And with this upgrade, you can now enter the trolley, it’s only one room but spacious. With the upgrade, you can now have a better altar!”

“Thank you, my Lady.” Hermione said bowing again.

“Now go to your first year at Hogwarts! Inspire those around you! Prove to yourself that you are more than what you believe! Do well my little malachite!” Hathor cheered before disappearing.

Hermione picked up her trolley and headed downstairs. She saw her mother guzzling down water with her pill case filled with several medical tablets. Helen was going to take Hermione to King’s Cross station, so she held a blue mask within her hands. It was important to avoid sick people after chemotherapy, due to a weakened immune system. Helen turned to Hermione after she capped her water bottle.

“Oh, Hermione! I made you some breakfast!” Helen smiled, but her face seemed tired.

“Thanks, mum.” Hermione smiled back as Helen sat down with Hermione to eat breakfast.

Helen made Hermione’s favorite pancakes. It was brown sugar oatmeal pancakes (Don’t knock it till ya try it!) topped with bananas. Hermione giggled to herself, it was rare for her mom to make pancakes, let alone her favorite. She sat down at the table with a smile on her face as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. 

“Wow, today my baby is leaving me to go to her magical school.” Helen wiped an imaginary tear.

“Muuum!” Hermione whined as she poured syrup on the stack of pancakes. She soon began inhaling the food in front of her.

Helen’s eyes widened as she watched her little angel devour her food while gulping down orange juice.

Soon, the pair were settled into the car, heading towards King’s Cross.

**RON**

Ron was ecstatic, he was currently in Platform 9  ¾ on the Hogwarts Express. So far, the rooms he passed were full, or empty. Ron’s family arrived nearly late and Ron wasn’t in the mood for sitting alone. He tried to find Fred and George, but they were probably busy with hanging out with Lee.

Ron sighed to himself, of course when it comes to the family members he likes, he felt like a tag-along. Or maybe even a burden. He craved attention, and compassion and was only able to accept it from the twins. Ron even knows that the way he acts towards his family has certainly caused a rift too.

That was when Ron’s sight found a certain male green-eyed beauty he saw last time he went to Diagon Alley. Shoving down his nervousness, he opened the door.

“Hello, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full or empty.” Ron said softly.

The boy nodded and gestured his hand to the seat across from him. Ron walked in carefully, placing his trolley up top on the baggage holder. Ron sat down and took a deep breath.

“My name’s Ron. Ronald Weasley.” Ron said while reaching his hand out for the boy.

The boy looked at his hand in confusion for a second. “And I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” Harry’s hand reached out and shook Ron’s hand.

Ron mentally thought about how Ginny would react towards him meeting  _ the  _ Harry Potter. He snickered internally. Ron wanted to try to connect with him, but his brain decided to bring up something instead.

“I saw you in Diagon Alley!” Ron wanted to slap himself.

“Correct. I recall seeing you too… you looked rather charming.” Harry said.

Ron felt a blush rise.

“Charmingly close to a tomato. Like now.” Harry looked down at a blank book that had suddenly appeared in his hands. Ron wanted to ask how he was able to do that but thought better not to ask.

Ron decided on playing a match of chess against himself. With all of the years he’s been playing chess, he remembered the chessboard, the chess pieces, and the placements. His stare focused on the corner of a room while he concentrated on his game.

The peaceful silence was broken when the same mocha skinned girl opened the door to the compartment with a chubby-faced boy trailing behind her. 

“Have any of you seen a toad? Neville here lost his.” She pointed towards the boy with her.

“No.” Harry said.

“No, sorry.” Ron said, watching Neville walk towards other compartments.

“Do you mind if I ask what book is that? I love a good read.” The girl said towards Harry. “Do you two mind if I sit here?”

“Um, it’s a personal book. And I don’t mind if you sit here.”

“I don’t mind either. My name is Ron. Ronald Weasley.”

“Well… I’m Hermione Granger.”

“And I’m Harry Potter. I have a question. Why did you choose to sit here?”

“Not many people would like me due to my race or blood status. It was difficult for me to find a seat, and not many wish to share with First Years. And I can tell that Neville didn’t want me around.” She said simply with her head down, while Harry looked at Hermione with a look.

“I fully understand you, Hermione. I’m mixed and a halfblood.” Harry monotonously said, his attention back on his book.

“Oh? May I ask…”

“My father was an Indian, and my mum was from Bulgaria.” 

“...My family’s Irish.” Ron said dully. “I’m a pureblood, but the wizarding world looks down at my family seeing us as blood traitors.”

“What’s a blood traitor?” Harry asked his eyebrows scrunching together ruining his blank face.

Ron had noticed that Harry’s face held no wrinkles. He had no smiling lines, it was as if he only wore a mask.

“A blood traitor is someone who sympathizes with Muggles and Muggleborns. Muggleborns are people who are born with magic but have non-magical parents. But the derogatory term that is used here is… Mudblood.” Hermione said.

“Ah, so you read the book on wizarding etiquette. I skimmed through it, but didn’t read the additional notes in there.”

A silence had descended upon them once again. Soon a slightly plump elderly lady had appeared with a trolley packed to the brim with snacks. Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Fizzing Whizbees, and much more delicious sweets.

Ron sighed, his family was never quite “liquid” so he would do with the dreaded sandwich he has to eat (which was corned beef, which was NOT his favorite).

“I’ll take the lot.” Harry replied in a bland tone as if it were nothing. Gracefully standing from his seat, with his book tucked safely in the crook of his arms. He handed the money towards the trolley witch. Without even using his wand, or giving any indication that he spoke as the candy floated into the compartment and gently set on an empty seat.

Hermione and Ron looked towards Harry in astonishment. The trolley witch continued on her way.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be my equals? I thought you two could do the same things I can.” Harry said grabbing a Cauldron Cake while gesturing for Ron and Hermione to grab some.

“So that’s what you did at the Leaky Cauldron. I wondered why I felt something… calling me.” Hermione said tapping her chin thoughtfully munching on a Fizzing Whizbee, making her float from her seat. “What was that exactly?”

“I’ve been searching for my equals for nearly three years now. I was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron for hours waiting. Until you two come in. Only then, I will be able to form an alliance with you both.”

Ron swallowed a piece of the Pumpkin Pasties, deciding to talk. “Well, what exactly do you mean by equals and an alliance? And what is in exchange for this?”

Harry’s hand motioned to the compartment door, his eyes glowed green for a brief moment as the door locked with an audible click. His eyes glowed brighter as his hand began moving through different motions. Ron saw an almost translucent like film appear over the door that shimmered in a wave-like structure.

“I just put up some charms. A silencing charm, locking charm, and an illusion charm to make it seem as if this corner were a dead end.” Harry explained.

“The wizarding world is corrupted.” Harry began.

Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement. 

“In this world, I’m deemed as some type of savior for something that I hardly have any recollection of. Muggleborns were labeled as magic stealers. Purebloods acting all high and mighty with their pompous attitudes when they most likely suffer from hemoglobin, mental, and not to mention physical defects. Squibs shoved to the side and spat on. The government, riddled with Voldemort supporters and politicians who only act on blood status.”

“My mum and dad died for this world and so did many countless others,” Harry said, his eyes having a slight sheen, but quickly gone. “I only see their deaths as not only useless but pointless. If all of these wizards I’ve met during my trip to Diagon Alley are like everyone else, brainless and weak then I’ll try to fix it myself.” Harry’s hands were gripped tightly on his titleless book.

“And that’s why my magic deemed you two as my equals. My magic sensed that you, Hermione, and Ron know exactly what I’m talking about. Muggle world or not you know what I mean here.”

“Say that you do have a point.” Ron seriously stated, looking at Harry in the eyes. “What are you going to do to change this world. We are just 11 years old. Adults would easily shove us away.”

Ron and Harry noted how Hermione showed her agreement with Ron, as she shook her head up and down.

“Exactly!” Harry yelled. Shocking Hermione and Ron, “I plan on buying stocks within some of the largest companies in the Wizarding World. This all begins where information is spread, with my money I can buy it out all in one go or buy slowly. And influencing how the papers are made would give us power over the people. It would spread to the Ministry, but I am hoping by then we can have a mole or some control there.”

Ron began thinking about what Harry had said. While it was a solid plan, the means to achieve this would be difficult. Not to also mention there were some holes within the plan, but Ron was certain it could be figured out.

“So why are you telling us this? And tell me about this alliance? And you haven’t addressed what was for exchange in this.” Hermione said.

Ron nodded in agreement with Hermione. That was a valid point, Ron was only thinking of the plan that Harry had mentioned, thinking on ways to get ahead. But Hermione here had noted what was deemed as questionable, evasive, or unanswered.

Harry sighed. “I’m telling you this because my magic deems you as my equals, and trustworthy. For the alliance, we would work together to improve this world. I simply ask for… camaraderie.” 

“So… friends?” Ron asked.

“Ah, so that’s the word.” Harry only replied.

Harry looked over to Hermione who was staring at an empty seat. Harry felt confusion, as Hermione immediately snapped her attention to Harry as if she knew that he was looking at her.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and smiled. They have come to a decision.

“Well, Harry. You just earned yourself a friend.” Ron smiled 

“I’m with you.” Hermione smiled at the prospect of not only getting one friend but two friends.

“So what house would be best for us then?” Hermione asked. “Gryffindor is for strong-willed students who have courage, grit, and immeasurable determination. But tend to be overconfident. Hufflepuff is friendly students that are patient, loyal, and hardworking. But don’t produce as many powerful students as it once did in the early 1900s. Ravenclaw is for those who enjoy honing their skills, have insatiable knowledge, and tend to have unorthodox ideas. But, are usually arrogant and come off as snobbish which is also life-threatening in battle situations. And lastly, we have Slytherin, students from Slytherin tend to be cunning, and have strived for an ambition that drives them to greatness. But, are protective and aggressive towards others, and are fiercely competitive.” Hermione quickly said from what she remembered from  _ Hogwarts: A History. _

“Well, I say Slytherin. While there certainly will be a stigma about us three entering, I think it’s for the better.” Harry said.

“Well, my mum will be furious. But I just can’t seem to care about that… but my brothers on the other hand…” Ron said, thinking of their reactions.

“Ron.” Harry called “You can’t worry about other people’s opinions when it comes to yourself. Let the words wash over you to prove you are better.”

Ron was oddly comforted by what Harry had said. “Well I guess, it’s time for me to bring some disgrace to the Weasley name.” Ron grinned.

“I was hoping for Slytherin too, but with...nevermind, I’ll show them how great I am! And shove their blood superiority up their snotty faces!” Hermione laughed.

Harry waved his arm over the compartment door, reversing what was done to the room. Conveniently a few seconds later there stood a blond boy with an extremely pale face with two goons standing behind him. Ron was easily able to distinguish just who it was, Draco Malfoy with Crabbe and Goyle flanking behind the prick.

Draco Malfoy has a pale pointed face, with his silvery blond hair slicked back. He had cold, gray eyes and stood with an air of arrogance and confidence. The boy that stood behind the Malfoy heir was Vincent Crabbe who has a large flat nose, and a bowl haircut with his straw-like brown hair. The other boy to Draco’s right was Gregory Goyle. He has a thickset frame, short and bristly hair, and small blue eyes.

**HERMIONE**

The blonde boy cleared his throat, “Have any of you seen my friend, Harry Potter?”

Harry only spared a small glance towards the blonde in question. He once saw this boy when he was getting fitted at Madam Malkin’s. The boy was petrified by him, for some odd reason.

“Oh? I didn’t know you were friends with Potter.” Harry said blandly.

“As if a Malfoy even were to be friends with a Potter. A predominantly white aligned family.” Ron snarked towards the Malfoy in question.

“I didn’t know there was another Weasley. Maybe if your family lessened on the number of mouths to feed you could afford proper clothes, instead of those hand me downs.” Malfoy said while looking towards Harry and Hermione. Draco expected a rise from Ron, but Ron only shrugged at the simple fact.

“And who might you two be?” Malfoy demanded.

“I’m James.” Harry said. While Draco raised an eyebrow towards Harry, expecting him to say a surname.

“I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Ugh, a muggleborn. I don’t wish to stain my pure clothes with your riddled blood.”

“Actually  _ Malfoy _ .” Hermione said, now glaring at the snotty boy, “I come from a line of powerful witches since before the stories of Islamic prophets came about! My ancestors attended Uagadou, which is another wizarding school in Uganda, Africa. But even before schools were created, they had taught their children themselves common herbs and practices! So if you try to come here preaching about how  _ pure  _ your blood is for such a blond rat, I’ll gladly show you my family line, that has been around far longer than yours! Maybe I can even link where your family started!”

Harry only spared a long look towards Hermione’s outburst, before turning back to Malfoy. Draco’s mouth was open agape for a while. He mumbled a silent apology before shoving the goons he dragged along with him out the door. Harry noted how the boy had a bright blush on his face.

“I think Draco Malfoy has the hots for you now Granger.” Harry said before resuming his attention back on his book.

“What?” Hermione disgustedly said, with her nose crinkled. “No. I don’t date pricks. Let alone, snobbish bullies.”

“That bloody inbred git,” Ron grumbled, eating some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “He gets off on women yelling at him. Who knew?”

“Ron!” Hermione yelled, beginning to feel embarrassed about the situation.

“But, you do see now.” Harry began, instantly cutting off the topic on Draco’s behavior. “With my name, there’s going to be an undeniable amount of pressure on us now. Then there’s Ron, the last male Weasley who’s expected to go into Gryffindor. And then, we have you, Hermione. With your father being a muggle, and your mother as a magically lacking person. Us being in Slytherin will lead to many people watching us. Baiting our moves. We need to be careful about how we advance with our plan.”

“How did you know that? My mother being a squib?” Hermione genuinely asked, her eyebrows raised towards Harry.

“Well, with your rant with Malfoy, you said that you come from a line of strong witches. So I can assume your mother has some type of wizarding blood. Along with the fact that Draco called you a Muggleborn, which is a term that while not as offensive as the other term, riles up other Muggleborns. So I could assume that either your father was a muggle or wizard. But you gave away little things that pointed out that you were raised in the Muggle world. When you first came in here you introduced yourself to Ron and I and mentioned blood status. Either you were considered a blood traitor, halfblood, or something else. I guessed after you didn’t mention your mother with Malfoy.” Harry stated.

Hermione blinked owlishly towards Harry. While Ron stared at the ground, how can an 11 year old be so Merlin damned observant?

“You know we could also go to Ravenclaw,” Hermione said. “I think we all equally proved we have some thirst for knowledge.”

“Yes, you do have a point there Hermione. But only Slytherin can help us to our way to greatness.” Harry decided to go off on another route. “Have you two ever had an enthralling feeling of power with our magic. Even if the outburst was uncontrolled, the surge that happened… it was a moment of drunkenness.”

Hermione thought back on the time she killed the boy. Yes, she felt bad...but the power. Hermione’s hands began shaking. The sounds of ambulances, crying children, the fresh smell of blood. Yes, she felt scared...but the power.

“Hermione?” Harry said with an undertone of worry laced in.

“Yes.” Hermione forced herself to calm down. “I had that feeling before… maybe Slytherin won’t be so dreadful”

“And I’ve had that feeling too. I also agree with Slytherin. I just hope the twins won’t be bothered about it.” Ron finished gloomily.

“Okay, now that we made our final decision. Let’s get to know each other more.” Harry said, reaching upward for his trolley.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you two! I have an owl named Hedwig. She’s the most beautiful owl. I’ve been letting her stretch her wings for a bit but making sure she follows the train.”

**NEXT CHAPTER IS THE TRIO ATTENDING HOGWARTS AND FIRST CLASSES. THANKS TO EVERYONE WITH ALL THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS, THEY ARE TRULY ENCOURAGE ME ON WRITING MORE INTO THIS STORY!**

**So, I for those who didn't read the notes, it's just me giving background on Hathor. And how I'm planning on making this story at least 70 chapters (which is about 10 chapters for every year). But I'm also planning on Ron having a large secret (besides his awakening sexuality) that will throw you guys into a huge curve ball! In about a chapter, I'm going to stop putting in the POV names (ie: HARRY, HERMIONE, RON) and just stick with 3rd POV until the trio gets into summer break or life-altering events.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter took FOREVER TO WRITE! I usually write 8-10 pages for each chapter, but this was over 20 pages! That's literally over two months worth of work. Ever since I was a kid I have always been interested in any type of mythology, whether it be Egyptian, Greek, Celtic, Norse, Anglo-Saxon, etc. And I wanted to include real aspects of witchcraft within the story which includes patron deities. So now that brings me to Hathor, who once called Sekhmet, a goddess that was driven by bloodlust. Humans during this time were not staying true to the laws of Ma’at. Sekhmet practically went apeshit and killed many people without limit, Ra worried about his daughter dyed the Nile River red with pomegranate and poured many gallons of beer within it. When Sekhmet drank all the beer she passed out for three days. When Sekhmet reawoke her bloodlust was gone and Osiris had renamed her as Hathor. I think I want this work to at least get over 70 chapters, but break it down into 10 chapters per year. And reviews are always welcome! Knowing how I can improve this story for your enjoyment is one main reason as to why I'm writing this! If there are any errors in this chapter, it will most likely be fixed by next week due to my schedule.


	4. Slimy Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we follow the trio from their sorting, as they began making a name for themselves. We also go through some flashbacks from Harry's trip to Diagon Alley, and a flashback to when he was six reading personal entries from Lily Potter.

**HARRY**

Harry pointed towards the majestic looking white owl gliding alongside the train, Ron and Hermione gazing at the majestic bird conveniently just outside their window. Sitting back down with his trolley, he looked towards his animal companion. Harry felt a ghost of a smile rising within him as he recalled a memory.

___Flashback___

When Harry sent the letter he wrote, he wanted one of the professors at Hogwarts to meet him at Surrey’s local library. Instead of meeting with a professor, he was instead being escorted by the Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts. His name was Rubeus Hagrid, a giant man who had beetle-like eyes that seemed to hold an odd warmth to them. With gnarly eyebrows that seemed to grow outward in an uncontrolled manner, the same could be applied to his hair, which was somewhat gelled down as it reached a little way past his shoulders. Accompanying the hair on his face, he also had a beard that grew out to his collarbone. Harry wondered what dead creatures could be stored in that thing. Rubeus wore a large brown moleskin overcoat that held many pockets filled with unexplainable objects of sorts. He had dormice (Which Harry heavily dislikes, he never liked rodents), a bottle of amber liquid, and a kettle along with other odd collectibles.

Hagrid had claimed that he knew his parents, as they sat in a subway cart. Random muggles looking towards the scrawny bespeckled boy that wore elephant-sized clothing accompanied by the giant man that took up over two seats. One black-haired woman approached Harry asking if he was okay while she held onto her phone with the number 999 visible for him to see. Harry, while confused at first, realized that she thought he was kidnapped by Hagrid. It was odd to see a small boy traveling with an imposing man. He had to console the woman telling her that he was just fine, giving her a forced smile (that he had to make seem genuine, smiling was just so troublesome and a waste of energy too).

Throughout the way towards Diagon Alley, he was raving while telling the many tales of James and Lily Potter. Harry already knew some of the tales, of course, reading through his mother’s journals. So for now, Harry would just _trust_ (trust being used very loosely that is) him. Getting off the subway, Harry swore to himself to buy himself more clothes. The only reason he hasn’t bought any new clothes since he offed and resurrected the Dursleys was to not arouse suspicion. There have been many close calls of Ms.Figg finding something odd going on.

Harry was lost in thought as he felt a large hand touch his shoulder. Instinctually flinching at the contact. Realizing that Hagrid was the one who touched his shoulder, he opened his eyes by a fraction, his eyes looking at the figure in front of him. Slowly forcing his tension down, Harry looked towards a large white building that stood in front of them. Luckily for Harry, Hagrid had missed Harry’s discomfort as he was mumbling under his breath: _Stone_ … _You-Know-Who… Dumbledore_ words that had piqued Harry’s interest. Keeping an ear out for any other words that the giant man would blumber, Harry looked once more towards the tall building. Reading the letters on the establishment, Harry had figured that this was Gringotts, the wizarding bank of England. 

Harry could simply compare the building to the Pantheon building in Rome. It looked as if someone had copied and pasted it right in the middle of Diagon Alley. Harry’s nose scrunched in disgust, it stuck out like a sore thumb as other buildings that he passed in this dreadful place had used colors such as brown, yellow, and black. Approaching closer to Gringotts, Harry’s eyes squinted behind his glasses, trying to read the sign near the grand doors.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay dearly in their turn,_

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware,_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry wanted to snort at the sign but held against that. Instead, he decided to ponder on what exactly was beneath the very floors. So there is treasure beneath them, but what else could be beneath it? Halting his thoughts as Hagrid suddenly stopped in front of a tall podium that seemed almost as tall as Hagrid himself.

That was when Harry saw a disgusting creature in front of him. It had white hair that was mainly stuck to the sides of his head, the few strands that had withstood the balding of its dome was combed over to the side. One could mistake it as a human, but then that was when Harry noticed it was another species. When the creature smiled down at Harry with a forced smile, he took note of how its teeth seemed almost piranha-like, and his eyes while seemingly were just black, upon closer inspection it had a pattern similar to a fly’s eye. 

_Yes._ Harry thought. _This creature is most definitely a goblin. Time to put mother’s books to the test._ But before Harry could even get the chance to introduce himself to the goblin, Hagrid had already beat him to the punch.

“Ah, hello! I got Mr.Potter here for his ‘ault!” Hagrid boomed as he slapped Harry’s back, making his knees buckle. Harry glared at Hagrid, who jovially ignored his look of anger.

“And does Mister Potter have his key?” The goblin queried.

Harry bowed towards the goblin, his right fist over his heart. “I apologize for my inconvenience sir, but I do not have a key. I am new to this world, due to being raised by muggles yet my magical blood spanning from many centuries. As the only heir of the prestigious Potter house, I hope I may form a bond with such a grandeur establishment.” Harry finished raising from his bow, looking directly into the goblin’s eyes.

The goblin stared back at him, waiting for Harry to blink. Harry refused to look away from the goblin’s eyes, his green orbs staring impassively back. The goblin nodded his head appreciatively towards the caramel-skinned boy.

“Oh don’t yeh worry there ‘Arry! I have yer key here! And I will be making a separate transaction m’self.” Hagrid said placing a golden key on the podium. Both Harry and the goblin’s face had held a suspicious look.

“I will not accept this key.” The goblin said.

“Wha’!?” Hagrid questioned.

“Mister Potter here just admitted that he has no knowledge of this world? Why should I accept this key? It could be tampered with or copied!” The goblin yelled towards Hagrid, drawing the attention of the little number of people inside the bank. 

The goblin turned to Harry. “Mister Potter, my name is Griphook, and I will be providing _you_ with a new key, and I will be reviewing your bank statements in the last 11 years to make sure no thefts had been made within the trust funds that your parents had left to you.”

“Thank you Griphook, may your gold always flow.”

Griphook looked towards Harry with respect, “And may your vaults overflow and your enemies blood stain the ground.” Griphook then dropped down from the podium, leading Harry towards the carts.

“Mister Hagrid, I ask that you take another cart, another goblin will take you to the necessary vault.”

“Now now, we don’t ‘ave to do that!” Hagrid bellowed his voice echoing through the vast caves.

“Yes. We do.” Another goblin called. “It’s the law of Gringott’s to escort heir’s to their vaults with only direct family members with Mister Potter’s explicit permission. And I last recall, you Mister Hagrid not having an ounce of Potter nor even Evans blood. Unless you would like to pay for Mister Potter’s school funds yourself, I suggest you follow Griphook’s word of advice.”

“Thank you Goobledegook,” Griphook said bowing towards the mentioned goblin.

Goobledegook only nodded towards Harry, as he motioned Hagrid to another cart. Griphook lead Harry to the first cart. Sitting in the somewhat rickety cart, headlights suddenly blared to life as they shot off.

Rapid lefts and rights had made Harry slightly ill. And that was when he saw a sudden bright orange flame, trailing in front of a large white solid...thing that had quickly disappeared.

“Excuse me Mr.Griphook, but was that a dragon!” Harry yelled looking at the goblin, ignoring how his voice held agitation.

Griphook grinned savagely at Harry, and that was the only answer Harry had gotten from it. Harry gripped onto the seat, ignoring Griphook’s laughs. The speed of the cart was still increasing as many more questionable things were viewed within the very cave. When the cart slowed to a stop, Harry realized that further on, there was no more tracks nor cave to follow

“Mr. Griphook, this doesn’t look like the trust fund described in my mother’s journal.” Harry said simply as he was helped out the cart. On the platform, many goblins were standing there trying to have even a simple glance towards the boy.

“The Chosen One!” A goblin cried as he kneeled.

“Death’s Champion!”

“The Four Horsemen Incarnate!”

“Well, yes… but you are a different case.” Griphook replied.

Harry frowned at the names, while he knew he would be considered as some type of name after Voldemort’s demise, but the other names had confused him. As more titles ushered out from the goblins’ mouths Harry had been rushed inside a room the Griphook had unlocked.

The room was an office, a medium-sized one at that. It held two chairs in front of a mahogany-colored desk, the room filled to the brim with parchment paper. Griphook motioned Harry to sit in front of the desk while he sat next to Harry.

“I apologize for your discomfort Mister Potter, it’s just… that we goblins have been looking forward to your arrival.” Griphook said.

“I thought the goblins were ecstatic for Voldemort’s agenda? Why would goblins such as yourself be happy to see me?” Harry asked his eyebrows scrunched together, tilting his head sideways as his soft black hair followed his movements.

“While we did support Voldemort’s agenda, we celebrate your arrival, Mister Potter.” Another goblin said as he walked towards his desk after entering the room.

“You see, we goblins, along with many creatures, have another prophecy about you…”

___End Flashback___

Harry watched as Hermione twiddled with her thumbs, “At some point, we have to change out of our muggle clothing once we are ready to arrive at Hogwarts. I recall last time I checked with the conductor we had 30 minutes left.” Hermione finished, gesturing towards their clothing.

That was when Harry snapped his fingers together, “That reminds me, I forgot to mention another thing.” 

Ron who, already grabbed his robes out from his trunk and was placing it over his clothes. “Oh is it that you have a pet snake?”

“What!?” Hermione screeched, hopping onto her seat in fear. Her crazed look adding emphasis on the slightly unhinged look in her eyes.

“How did you know that Ron?” Harry asked.

“Well you have weird bulges in your shirt, and I can hear very quiet hissing,” Ron said

Hermione watched as Harry began hissing, a snake slowly started peeking out from underneath Harry’s clothes. Ron’s eyes widened as he heard Harry speak in parseltongue.

“You’re a parselmouth!” Ron yelled.

“What’s a parselmouth?” Both Harry and Hermione asked.

“It means you can speak to snakes! The last known speaker was… You-Know-Who.”

“You mean Voldemort?” Harry said, ignoring the gasp from Hermione and Ron. “It’s just a name!”

Hermione shrieked again as she saw the snake still unraveling from Harry. But the snake’s attention was pointed towards the girl.

**_This girl sshriekss too much. May I eat her?_ **

_No, she’s my ally._

**_What about the ginger boy with the freckless?_ **

_No, he’s also my ally._

Harry could swear he heard his companion sigh. “Ron, Hermione. Meet my other companion, Gorgo, she’s an albino Burmese python. Isn’t she beautiful?” He held up Gorgo, the light hitting her scales showing off the white and yellow spots of her.

**_Why thank you hatchling! I know I am beautiful, but you ssaying it iss just better!_ **

“Don’t worry Hermione, she won’t bite you.” Harry said.

“Sorry Harry, it’s just difficult to try and calm myself down, I was once bitten by a snake before and I had to go to the hospital… I nearly died.” Hermione looked down again, as Ron patted her shoulder for comfort.

“If it helps, you can hold Gorgo.” Harry said, offering Gorgo to Hermione.

“I’ll hold her another time, but she is very pretty.” Hermione said shakily sitting normally in her seat once more, with Ron nodding in agreement.

“But we should get changed, we could arrive at Hogwarts at any minute now.” Ron said.

“Well, then I’ll just wait outside while you two get changed.” Hermione said as she left the compartment.

**RON**

Ron was in the middle of his gay panic mode (Well he’s bisexual but Fred had called it that). He and Harry were going to change… in the same compartment. Harry had taken off his shirt, exposing more of his skin to Ron, whose face began to turn red once more, as he silently scolded himself.

Turning his back to Harry, Ron took off his shirt, putting on the white dress shirt, buttoning it up, then putting on the grey sweater on top. Replacing his pants with the black slacks, and putting on the long grey socks and the black dress shoes. And now Ron stood at an impasse, Ron had to somehow put on a tie. Turning around he noted that Harry was done getting dressed, along with having his black tie on perfectly.

“Um, Harry?” Ron said taking an interest at his feet, getting the attention of Harry and his book, “Could you help me with this tie? My father forgot to show me before I left for Hogwarts.”

Harry said nothing as he strode up to Ron, grabbing the material from his hands, carefully wrapping it around his neck, while tucking the material underneath the collar. Ron could only stare as he watched Harry’s nimble fingers efficiently working on his tie. From this close, Ron could see Harry’s scar. Many people thought it would look like a “z” shaped scar, but in reality, it resembled bead lightning, that had broken off in fragments, covering the majority of the right side of his forehead. Against his brown skin, the scar was white, making it seem as if there were cracks along his forehead.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Harry deadpanned, softly hitting Ron’s chest.

Ron cleared his throat, fighting against the urge to blush. “We should tell Hermione that we are done.”

Harry nodded, “Agreed.” Harry placed his hand on the seat watching as Gorgo slithered up Harry’s arm, slipping beneath his clothes.

Walking out of the compartment, Hermione flashed Ron and Harry a smile as she went inside to change. Ron looked at Harry as he nonchalantly leaned against the wall.

“You know, I’d prefer if you have gotten to know me before having a crush, instead of fetishizing my ethnicity.” Harry said crossing his arms while speaking with no hint of emotion.

“What!?” Ron yelled.

Harry stuck his pinkie finger in his right ear. “What’s with everyone shrieking? So troublesome.”

Ron huffed, “I don’t fetishize ethnicities. I just find you attractive, along with Hermione.” Ron closed his eyes, not wanting to see looks of disgust.

“Cool, you swing both ways. I’m more into emotional bonds… too bad I can’t feel much of anything nowadays.” Harry said looking at his hands, Ron looked at him ignoring how his own heart thumped… so there was a chance of them getting together.

“Fist bump for being mentally messed up?” Ron offered smiling weakly. He reached his arm outwards, Harry looked at Ron’s appendage with a questioning gaze. Slowly and unsurely, he had fist bumped him back.

“To being mentally fucked up.” Harry agreed giving Ron a devious smirk.

“Don’t forget to include me in this.” Hermione said, appearing out of the compartment with her school uniform on. She arrived up to the two eleven-year-olds that stood across from the compartment door and fist-bumped both Ron and Harry. Just then the train halted, making Ron and Hermione grab onto the walls at the sudden lurch of movement. Harry still leaned against the wall, the train’s stop not shifting any of his stillness.

“Bloody hell, I could’ve broken my nose with that stop!” Ron cried.

“I guess it’s time to head off the train.” Hermione sarcastically said grabbing both Harry and Ron’s hands, dragging them towards the closest door to exit the train from. Ignoring the yelp that Harry gave, Hermione quickly left the train with Ron and Harry in tow.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over ‘ere!” A tall giant yelled over the sea of children exiting the train.

“Who’s that?” Hermione gasped, a soft smile appearing on her face, stars appearing in her eyes. “Is that a halfbreed? Wow! I never thought that there would be one at this school!”

Ron added some distance between Hermione and himself. Slightly unnerved by the quick mood transitions that the girl was showing. Risking a glance at Harry, he was seemed quite content with her presence. 

“Yes,” Harry replied solemnly. “he is a halfbreed, more specifically, a half-giant. His name is Hagrid, he’s the groundskeeper.” Harry began to quicken his pace to avoid students bumping into him, closing the distance between their group and Hagrid.

“There yeh are Harry! Two of ‘em yer friends?”

So now, here they were sitting in a boat, going across The Black Lake, it was evening during this time. The sky was purple, nearly bordering blue, the landscaping highlighting the majestic view of the large castle that awaited in front of the horde of first years. Harry sat at the front of the four-person boat, with Hermione and Ron sitting next to each other at the back.

“Ah!” Neville cried, garnering nearly everyone’s attention. “A large animal is in the water!”

And that was when the screams of other first years began. Harry stuck his pinkie fingers into both of his ears.

“Just when I get used to the bloody silence, some bloated up toad of a child decides to ruin it! I swear if that boy gets into the same house as us, I am going to…” Harry left the threat hanging while Ron and Hermione stifle their laughs at Harry’s reaction.

“Oi! What’s so funny?” Harry asked, removing his pinkie fingers from his ears.

“It’s just…” Ron began laughing again. “That noise is the only thing we know that bothers you. And the way you react sometimes is funny!” Ron laughed.

“You look like an angry teddy bear!” Hermione cried a moment of silence blanketed over them before Ron and Hermione began laughing again.

**HARRY**

Harry raised an eyebrow at the two as they busted into another round of hysterics. Ignoring the duo, as he turned his attention towards the castle. From how his mother described it, he expected better. He lightly placed his left hand into the water, not minding how cold the water itself was. 

___Flashback___

Harry’s hands shook as he unlocked the latch to his mother’s trunk. Opening it slowly as he registered how the hinges groaned at the movement after years of remaining unused. Harry adjusted his taped-together glasses.

Harry grabbed the first book he could see, it was burgundy colored one, with gold designs that glimmered the cover. But it looked well worn in certain parts, like the spine of it was well folded, and the edges tapered off. Opening it he was met with neat cursive writing, with his finger, Harry traced over the word presented to him ‘Lily Potter’.

“So that’s her name.” Harry whispered to himself, as he turned the next page, for a photo to fall out.

It was a photo of a woman with red hair and green eyes smiling happily with one tall man that she stood very close to, her hand placed against his chest and the man’s left wrapped around her waist. The man had skin almost the same shade as Harry’s, but with hazel brown eyes, his hair was even black, which simply pointed to nearly every angle. They both wore red and yellow patterned scarves.

That was when Harry noticed something on his face. Touching his cheek in confusion, he looked down at his hand he saw that it was tears. Harry hadn’t cried in years, the Dursleys having instilled it within him that tears made him weak, and a freak such as he wasn’t allowed to cry.

_Why am I crying?_ Harry thought to himself. Sniffling a bit, he began to realize something...this was a photo of his parents. This was the first time he had ever seen his parents. Greedily looking back at the photo burning the image of their features into his memories.

Placing the photo into his pocket, Harry continued reading his mother’s journal.

_February 23, 1981_

_I finally got the chance to visit the Med-Witch today after feeling sick for quite a while now. With the war against Voldemort, Med-Wizards have been in short supply. As of now, I am four months pregnant. James is ecstatic, he’s currently running around the house yelling about, “A new Potter to soon terrorize the walls of Hogwarts.”. We both already told my in-laws, Fleamont, and Euphemia the news through Floo. But James wants to tell Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail himself, so for now I have time to write such great news. I’ll have to wait a bit for telling whether if my child is a boy or girl. But I fear with such dire times if I can handle the stress without harming my child. Each year, the amount of babies being born successfully dwindles, it makes me fear that Harry won’t have any friends in his year with the drastic numbers. Maybe Sirius or Remus could have a child with someone? Maybe they could both adopt a child? I wouldn’t want Peter to have a child, I don’t trust him for some reason, he seems… off. Right now, I hear Sirius yelling at James about how he had finally “done it”. So, I’ll sign off here and scold Sirius for such language around my dear baby._

_Lily Potter_

Harry after reading had closed his eyes, imagining his mother sitting at a wooden table writing and giggling at his father’s antics. His father, James hollering around the house boasting about how he had gotten his wife pregnant. Turning the page, he noticed many drops along with the next page as if someone had been crying.

_May 15, 1981_

_Two weeks ago, I finally got to figure out the gender of my baby. It’s going to be a boy! James wanted to pick the first name, but I argued since he would have James’s last name, I should have the right to pick out the first name. I chose Harry. James made fun of the name. I tried to get Tuney’s idea on the name but she hasn’t responded to any of my messages for years now. I don’t know why I still try to connect with her if she ignores so much. But the reason as to why I’m writing this entry is because this deals with Harry’s future. Harry is supposed to be born sometime in late July, possibly even early August. But today, I was invited to see a prophecy from Sybill Trelawney (a seer). To summarize it, she predicts that either my son or Voldemort shall die. The one marked by Voldemort is a child born at the end of July. So James and I have to go into hiding along with another family called the Longbottoms. James and I spent the entire day packing essentials and hiding somewhere safe. We begged Dumbledore for help, of course, he is the most powerful wizard of the century, and I trust that he will keep us safe. Dumbledore is currently setting up wards around the house, and suggests that we pick one person to have the knowledge to give away our location. The only person I have full confidence in would be Sirius, he and James have been best friends for decades now, they are practically brothers. Unfortunately Peter was chosen, James and I had argued for nights on end. But I can’t help but feel sorry for my dear Harry. Such a burden shouldn’t be placed on a child. It’s believed that Harry could kill the Dark Lord. What if I am not around to protect my dear Harry? Who will raise him? Harry, my dear Harry… if you are even possibly reading this. I am sorry. I already accept my fate of dying, but I swear on my magic, I will find a way for you to live. I wish I could tell you this in person, but I love you. I love you, my dear Harry, please don’t believe that James and I have never loved you._

_Lily Potter_

___Flashback End____

Harry was jerked back into reality as the boat came to a stop. Hermione and Ron, long since collecting their composure. Harry slowly and gracefully exited the boat, offering a hand to both Ron and Hermione to get out the boat.

“Thank you, Harry.” Ron said with Hermione voicing her gratitude.

Harry only hummed in response. Placing his hands into his pockets following behind Hagrid as he led the group of first years inside the castle. The children gawking at the display of grand ceilings and portraits that lined the walls. Hermione was rattling off facts she memorized from _Hogwarts: A History_. Climbing up a set of stairs, they were met with tall oak doors, Hagrid then knocked on it, the sound echoing through the mainly empty hall.

“Well firs’ years, this is where I leave yeh. Good luck on the sortin’.” Hagrid said waving his large hand at the children, going down the stairs and back outside.

“Oh is this the first years!” An eerie voice called.

“Why I think it is!” Another ghastly voice called.

“Friar, you stole my spotlight!”

“I humbly apologize Miss.” Friar said bowing appearing in front of the first years, some giving gasp of fright. Friar wore many ruffles and tights.

“But!” Friar cried, pointing his finger up ina eureka pose, “Hope to see you all in Hufflepuff, it’s my old House you know.”

“I shall be taking over her now Friar and Peeves!” A sharp voice yelled. It was a woman with brown hair that was peppered with greys all wrapped up in a tight bun. She wore green dress robes, and a witches hat placed on top.

“First years pay attention because I will not be repeating the information that I will be telling you now. Hello, I am Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress, the head of House for Gryffindor, and your Transfiguration teacher. You are about to be sorted very shortly. Now, there are four houses here at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw...and Slytherin. Each of you shall be sorted into these houses, and have your schedule set accordingly to your house. Your duties and expectations shall be discussed with your Prefects, which are students in their 6th or 7th year of Hogwarts in charge of overseeing your adaptability and comfort with our school. When we walk through these doors you will be sorted, so please form a single file line alphabetically from your last name then we shall continue with our ceremony.”

Harry stood outside from everyone as he watched other students scamper around asking for last names and moving accordingly. After the huge ruckus had been mostly dealt with, he decided on moving somewhere behind the Malfoy fellow, but in front of Ron. Asking for someone in between the two, Harry had found his spot.

McGonagall opened the doors, escorting the group of first years through the Great Hall. Harry was still able to hear rattling facts off to the person in front of her… poor bloke. The line came to a halt as McGonagall grabbed a old ratty hat from a stool. And that was when it began to sing.

(I am skipping the song. I know how evil of me. But I am tired of reading it.)

“Abbot, Hannah!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Many names had zoomed by then until he finally heard one name:

“Granger, Hermione!”

The hat was placed on top of her head, there it sat for a few minutes before calling:

“SLYTHERIN!” Hermione gave the hat to McGonagall, smiling back at Ron and Harry walking in the direction of the Slytherin table.

Harry had begun to doze off, mindlessly moving forward until he was nearly next.

“Potter, Harry!” McGonagall called.

Harry slowly walked up the stairs, aware of the many eyes now watching his back. The hat was then placed over his head, and over his eyes, the last thing he saw was many faces craning to look at him.

_“What a dark mind you have here Mr.Potter.” The hat said._

_“It’s not my fault.“ Harry only replied with._

_“Just so you know, I can’t report this to Dumbledore, for it would breach my promise with Godric Gryffindor.”_

_“Hmm.” Harry only replied with._

_“Poor child, who made you like this? Why is it bad for you to show emotion? Your ambition, while great…” The hat trailed off._

_“Everyone made me like this,” Harry said, mentally shrugging. “for me to show my emotion… it’s difficult to explain. My ambition… it’s the only way to achieve peace.”_

_“Well, you certainly have intelligence. You are very brave, but when that brick wall is torn down you are quite friendly, you yearn for attention, for affection. You are cunning too, very sneaky. As you could fit in any house let me ask you one thing Mr. Potter before I make my final decision.”_

_“Alright, ask away.”_

_“What is your why? What is the reason why you wake up everyday? What strives you to be great. What makes you feel inspired when down? What makes you get up when you’re knocked down? Why?”_

_“What?” Harry asked his eyebrows scrunched in confusion._

_“Just remember what I said here, Mr. Potter. When you figure out the answer, come back to me.”_

“SLYTHERIN!” The hat yelled as Harry took the hat off from his head, handing it to his now pale professor.

Turning around to see the teachers looking at him as an upcoming-dark-lord. The man that sat in the middle was a man with a long glorious grey beard and glasses looked at Harry in a way that made him want to call the police. Another teacher that had given him the feeling of concern was a brooding looking man that had a hook like nose, and greasy black hair. Harry smirked at them. He turned back to the hall, to see many shocked faces looking at him, Harry placed his hands in his pockets, walking towards Hermione, the only person clapping for him besides Ron.

“Harry! You were up there for a while.” Hermione said, her voice while speaking quietly was able to echo through the shocked hall.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Harry waved. “He told me about how great the Slytherin house is. And how we will be treated like family...right?” Harry turned to the other inhabitants at the table, his green eyes suddenly glowing with raw power.

The area Harry gazed at, the air buzzed with magic as if it silently commanded them. Nearly all the students nodded in fear. Harry took notice of those that had resisted his magic, he would keep an eye out on them.

“Minerva, please continue with the sorting.” Dumbledore said, using his cheerful tone, but secretly glancing at the young boy that had just joined Slytherin.

Dumbledore leaned over to Snape. “Severus, I want you to keep an eye on Potter, and his acquaintances.”

Dumbledore leaned back to his original spot as Snape tsked at him.

“Weasley, Ronald!” 

The hat was placed over his head, in a span of thirteen seconds, the hat had already made his decision.

“SLYTHERIN!” Ron hopped off the stool handing the hat to McGonagall. Silence once again enveloped the hall. He nervously looked towards Fred and George, the only redheads at the Gryffindor table, seeing their shocked faces he kept his head down walking to his designated table.

“You’re still family to us Ron!” Fred yelled standing up from his seat.

“Yeah! Now beat those slimy snakes for us!” George roared joined in.

“Don’t expect us to go easy on you just because you’re in another house! We’ll still prank you!” Both of them finished.

When he reached the group that Harry and Hermione sat at, separate from the other Slytherin table, Ron had a small smile on his face. Harry had felt jealousy burning within his chest, but quickly diminished when he saw Ron’s teary smile. 

“Messers Weasley! I would appreciate it if you kept familial affection to a lower volume!”

“Yeah Weasley.” Malfoy drawled, keeping a distance from Potters rag-tag group. “Keep your peon brothers down.”

“Now Malfoy, I can take you insulting me, and nearly every member of my family. But I’ll only warn you once. If you ever insult Fred and George again, I’ll neuter you right where you sit. I don’t care if you tell your father either, at least your family line ends with you. I get to save the poor woman from your filthy inbred hands.” Ron spat venomously, Malfoy’s eyes widening at Ron’s vulgar language.

“Now Ron that won’t be necessary.“ Hermione said sweetly.

“We could just simply dispose of him,” Harry said seriously, poking at the food that had suddenly appeared at the table. The first year and second year Slytherin’s beginning to feel fear at the trio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed the majority of the grammar issues I found within the chapter (it was so much I wanted to slap myself it was terrible). My laptop kept crashing from the number of pages I have on this story (In total it's 63). The next chapter will be about their classes all the way to Halloween along with a huge surprise for Ron (I wanted it in this chapter, but realized it wouldn't fit in well and because I honestly feel like I don't give him enough attention and I feel guilty). I already have everything planned up to the third year and honestly, I am so excited about how you guys will react. As always, leave a review, or kudos, or skip to the next chapter (that is if the next chapter is even posted yet).


	5. The First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we follow the trio as they settle into the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys… I’m not dead. I was sad. The holidays are usually considered as a time of happiness for others, but throughout my childhood, it was quite the opposite. I just felt so down on myself I couldn’t do anything right. But as promised on this date, I released this chapter, edits will be made the next day as usual.

Harry poked at the odd towering case of jello, that stood in front of him, ignoring the horror-stricken faces of the first and second years. 

“Why is dessert set on the table with dinner? Isn’t that just influencing unhealthy decisions?” Hermione asked, looking towards a fourth-year who was scooping ice cream into a large bowl.

“I say let them get fat if they want to,” Ron said, grabbing a rack of barbequed ribs placing it with his plate of little greens, and an odd brown curdled substance on his plate.

Harry scrunched his nose, watching others digging into their food like a wild pack of animals, personally noting that all of Sythherin ate with grace. “Is there perhaps a salad? And where’s the water? All I see is juice.” he sneered. His eyes roamed up and down the table, sighing to himself he picked the most familiar food towards him, which was roast beef, a side of gravy, and mashed potatoes. Peering into some of the juice goblets that were closest to him, he opted on grabbing the container of red juice (seeing as how one was orange but had strings in it that told him that something pumpkin was placed in it).

Hermione had also chosen something similar to Harry’s plate. Seeing the carved turkey, she grabbed a few pieces, mentally calculating how much sugar she could allow herself to have (her parents were dentists after all) after the many sweets she already consumed on the train. Spotting cranberry sauce next to the carved turkey she helped herself to a large helping of it. All of the foods that magically appeared on the table had silver platters, birds that neither Harry and Hermione have ever seen in the muggle world placed on the table, unknown foods that decorated the table made Harry and Hermione question their appetites. Multicolored foods that look straight out of fantasy movies such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Hermione had to fight the urge to begin humming “Pure Imagination” by Gene Wilder.

“If there was a goblin here, they would surely go after all of these platters.” Hermione mused towards her newfound friends.

“Well, there is a goblin… well part goblin here,” Harry said, sitting in a perfect posture, his back ramrod straight cutting into his roast beef after spreading some of the gravy on top of the medium well roast beef.

“Really!?” Hermione said, a soft smile visible on her face with stars appearing in her eyes once more. Ignoring the piece of turkey slathered in cranberry sauce that sat on her plate, looking towards the head table.

Ron brought his plate of food closer to his body as a thought came across his mind. “No wonder that woman has been freaking me out,” he grumbled, stabbing at the small amount of asparagus on his plate before shoveling it into his mouth.

“Come again?” Hermione asked, the stars immediately disappearing as her eyes narrowed towards the ginger, she wasn’t smiling or frowning towards Ron, which slightly freaked him out.

“...” Ron’s ears turned red as he felt his fight or flight instincts activate.  _ This woman is mad! How could I not notice this before!  _ Ron sighed after bracing himself. “You are freaking me out. You’re displaying the Lestrange syndrome.”

“The Lestrange syndrome can be compared to bipolar disorder, maybe even cyclothymia.” Ron elaborated, sensing the confusion before it was questioned. He looked down at his plate to see the rack of ribs gone, along with the majority of his food. When had he eaten it all?

He missed the brief flash of hurt that crossed Hermione’s face before it was quickly replaced with a scowl. “Are you saying that there’s something wrong with me?” the tone of her voice was icy, her face pointed downward as shadows seemed to dance across her face.

“You compare my moments of happiness to mood disorders? Do you lack tact?” She harshly whispered to herself as her hands clenched the surface edge of the table, her knuckles becoming more pronounced as she felt the heat rising from the base of her neck traveling upwards. Her arms were shaking, her mouth wanted to spit harsh words towards the redhead. She felt anger quickly reigning over her emotions.

_ “She’s not normal Helen!” Her father had yelled. _

_ "She is special Greg! This is our little angel we’re talking about!" _

_ "Well did you see our little angel just cause the death of a young boy a few moments ago! What about the other time at school that Hermione turned one of her classmates into a rat because he made fun of her hair!" _

Tears of torment began forming in the corners of her eyes. 

_ No one helped me. Hermione had thought. They all just watched me get humiliated, dehumanized...violated… and no one helped me _ .

“Hermione,” Harry called, folding a handkerchief he packed back into his pocket while his magic reached out towards Hermione, seemingly soothing her. “please calm yourself.”

Hermione heard Harry speak, which made her grasp onto reality, slowly released her grip on the table. She looked at her hands that now lay on her lap, which trembled either from rage or the amount of pressure put on them as she held onto the table.

“Now lower the knife.” Harry nonchalantly said.

Hermione looked up to see a butterknife raised in the air pointed towards Ron. The knife itself was above the table by about three inches and pointed discreetly towards the left side of Ron’s body. Surprise seemed to cross her features before grabbing the butterknife herself.

Draco had conveniently seen the display of instinctual magic performed by Hermione as a pale blush seemed to settle over his features. Hermione was a strong woman indeed, perhaps he should write a letter to his father requesting for changing his betrothal papers from Daphne Greengrass to Hermione Granger. Miss Greengrass, while a beauty in her own way, lacked powerful magic. While Miss Granger, on the other hand, was not only beautiful (and a descendant of mayhap the oldest family of magic in the entire world) contained powerful magic. A union between them would surely bring such strong children!

“And Ron. Speaking of such ill on others is shameful. Watch your words before you speak, or one day they shall be your last.” Harry finished, taking the last sip of his pomegranate juice.

_ If you want to get to know someone, you need to find out what makes them angry.  _ Harry thought as he placed his golden goblet down.  _ I’m sure Hermione has a reason as to why she got angry. _

“We shall discuss more on this after our meal is over.” Harry pushed his plate further away from him, signaling that he had finished his food.

Both Ron and Hermione bore faces of shame. While Ron felt fear when he saw the knife pointed towards him, it made him question what did his words trigger within Hermione? She had seemed surprised over her actions grabbing the knife and placing back on the surface of the table. But now, Ron felt ashamed that he had made Hermione feel upset. He finally made friends outside of his family, and the first thing he had done was make one of them mad at him.

_ I need to meditate.  _ Hermione thought.  _ Or maybe I need a hot cup of rooibos tea.  _

Harry throughout his meal, snuck dead rats to one of his familiars Gorgo. The castle was quite full of them, he held no care if it was another student’s pet (well besides Ron). Harry despises rodents with a great passion and would hold zero remorse for those disgusting disease-ridden roaches with patches of fur.

**_Thankss for ssuch a deliciouss meal_ **

Harry booped her snout. Ignoring the threat she made after poking her snout.

“Alright, and to finish our night! We shall sing!” Dumbledore announced jovially, brandishing his wand pointing towards the ceiling as a banner suddenly appeared with lyrics showing up.

The wand oddly seemed to be calling to Harry, who tilted his head towards it in confusion.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now, they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

The trio had stayed silent throughout the entire singing. Actually, all of Slytherin had stayed silent while the other houses sang along; many people in all houses chose not to sing. Fred and George singing in the tune of a funeral march by Chopin. 

When Fred and George finished, Dumbledore was the one who clapped his hands together the loudest. While some students did clap, it was more from relief from enduring this form of torture.

“Ah, music.” Dumbledore said while he banished the banner wandlessly wiping a tear from his eyes. “A certain type of magic that nearly everyone is able to accomplish. Now off you trot!”

Ron scowled, “What are we, horses?” As the trio stood up, walking towards the prefect that had notified them during the meal to follow him to reach the dungeons, turned towards the doors that lead to the hallway.

But lo and behold, a certain man black-haired man with a hooked nose stood in their way. His cloak seemed oddly like bat wings. “You three are to come with me… now.”

“On whose word may I ask, Professor?” Harry asked, with no emotion behind his words. Internally thinking if this large bat of a man ran all the way to reach them.

“It’s the Headmaster  _ Potter. _ ” The man spat Harry’s surname with malice. “Any more requests from our very own celebrity?” 

Harry only stared at the man with bore. He wasn’t taking the bait from the professor to punish him. He already knows how it goes after living with the Dursleys. The professor turned on his heel leading them away from the Great Hall.

“Why is Professor Snape leading them away?” A male asked

“Well, Potter is in Slytherin… along with Weasley and the girl. Maybe it was an issue with the sorting.” A third-year said.

“He’s probably going to kill them.” A sixth year said with a tone of certainty.

That only made Hermione feel more alert with Snape.

Snape still walked in front of them, when Harry decided to deliver a message. “Don’t look directly in their eyes, they can read our minds when they do that okay? Just look at their foreheads.” Harry whispered.

Hermione and Ron nodded towards Harry, as they quickened their pace to catch up to the greasy-haired teacher, who led them up a spinning set of stairs.

“Professor Dumbledore. I have the three as requested.” Snape said, walking to stand behind Dumbledore, who nodded his thanks.

“Lemon Drop, anyone?” Dumbledore asked in a grandfatherly tone.

“Sorry sir, while my aunt always told me to accept candy from strangers; I think it’s more wise to do quite the opposite, sir.” Harry said formally in a vapid like tone.

_ What the hell is wrong with Harry’s aunt?  _ Both Ron and Hermione thought.

Dumbledore laughed as if he hadn’t heard any alarm bells from Harry’s statement. While Snape on the other hand had his forehead furrowed before it was quickly erased.

“Now, I called you three in here because of the houses you happen to be in.”

“Oh? Is there a problem, Headmaster?” Hermione asked. “If that is the case how come you haven’t called in the others that were also sorted in the same house as us today?”

“No, I am just worried that’s all.”

Harry had to snort at that. Even he couldn’t help himself there.

“Anything you wish to say, Potter?” Snape barked.

“Well, excuse me for my bluntness sir. But why would you suddenly care for my well being now?” Harry crossed his arms over his chest, still able to retain the regal air that surrounded him.

“Whatever do you mean Harry?” Dumbledore said.

“Please, call me Mister Potter, Headmaster. To elaborate, you're the one that placed me with the Dursleys correct? My aunt tells me that every time, yet, for all of the 10 years I’ve lived there you never checked on me? So, it worries  _ me  _ that  _ you  _ are suddenly worried about me along with my new friends. So I can assume that this is about me being in the Slytherin house. Is this an example of how people from different houses besides Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are treated? I know how Ravenclaw and Slytherin are considered as dark houses, but that’s just because of how Voldemort skewed how the Houses were once known for. Or perhaps you are worried about the dark families that are in the same house as me? But I find that hard to believe sir when I’ve lived with monsters for 10 years!” Harry now began ranting, his eyes glowing erratically.

Harry had at some point stood during his rant, ignoring how the office trembled under his slip of emotions. Pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes forcing himself to take calming breaths. While some of the hurt he felt as a child leaked out during his speech, he was mainly acting to influence Dumbledore.

“For 10 years… I never knew that I had a mother or father.” That was a lie, he found out when he was six. “I never even knew my own name until I attended muggle school… I was only shown scorn, hate… abuse for years! For 10 years! I never had a friend! I never had a warm meal besides bread with a single slice of cheese while my  _ family  _ ate ham, chicken, pork, and soups! I never had someone to comfort me whenever I felt sad!” Well, that wasn’t a lie.

“As my aunt always says, nobody loves nor wants a  _ freak _ .” Harry spat ending it with a sneer that made him look like a certain dark lord. Dumbledore felt a slight chill at the parallels shown between them.

Harry hung his head as if he was in defeat. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry with a mix of horror and grief-stricken face.

“So sorry sir, if I find it odd that you suddenly care about me now.” A lone tear escaped from him whether it was an act or not, Harry wouldn’t know. Before he could wipe it away, Hermione and Ron had stood from their chairs and hugged him.

Harry stiffened in their hold.  _ Ba-bump.  _ His heart loudly said. His eyes widened.

“What are you doing!?” Harry's voice rose an octave higher.

“We’re comforting you.” Hermione only said as she hugged him tighter with Ron following suit.

_ Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.  _ Harry slowly and unsurely returned the gesture, his eyes closing as warmth enveloped him.

“What is this called?” Harry whispered which echoed throughout the silent room.

“It’s a hug,” Ron said. “It helps people feel better.”

Slowly they released the hug, Harry discreetly wiped his face to check if any more tears had escaped him (luckily he only shed one tear).

He faced his Headmaster and Professor, “I apologize for my outburst sir. I will accept any form of punishment I shall face with no complaint. I have no right to question you.” Harry said, reciting lines he used to say towards his uncle.

“No my boy.” Dumbledore stood from his chair and strode towards Harry, placing his hands on his shoulders. Harry still looked towards the floor. “I am sorry for leaving you in such an unloving home. I thought that a family no matter the differences, would still love and protect each other. My years fail me, my boy. You three may go.” Dumbledore motioned them out of the room.

So Snape had led them to the Dungeons, and Harry had chosen a room with Ron, who was sharing with Blaise Zabini, a fellow first year. Hermione had to share with Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson. 

And that led to where they are currently at now, in the common room in front of the roaring fireplace. Hermione had placed a kettle on the cooking crane (which she packed after the third time of unpacking and repacking, thank goodness). She had set out three mugs, some sugar cubes, and tea leaves for Ron and Harry to pick. Ron chose black tea leaves.

“I have Assam leaves.” Harry only said, showing his hand that held said leaves.

“Ah, I always wanted to try Assam leaves.” Hermione sighed, hearing the kettle whistle.

“I can give you some if you wish.” Harry held his arm out while his python, Gorgo slowly slithered out. She had a dish of fresh water that Harry had conjured earlier. 

The kettle was lifted through the air (a courtesy from Harry) as he poured the hot water into their mugs. Sounds of sugar cubes meeting their gruesome death and stirring were heard.

Harry held the mug close to his mouth and nose. Inhaling it after he let the tea steep for about two minutes before placing a single sugar cube and mixing. The soothing brown color smelled simply divine to him.

“You two make tea wrong. It’s supposed to be steeped first, and you're not supposed to add much sugar... actually it's supposed to be no sugar whatsoever. Not to also mention the temperature of the water is also important depending on the tea.” Harry said, before taking a sip, enjoying the hot liquid rolling down his throat.

“Now,” Harry said, still clasping on the hot mug. “I would first like to say that I thank Hermione for allowing me to have some of the tea she made.” Harry looked towards Ron.

“Um, yeah thank you, Hermione.” Ron said.

“You’re welcome.” Hermione said softly.

“Well, we can continue our discussion from lunch now. I would like to know what had brought on Ron implying on Hermione having bipolar disorder or cyclothymia. Ron?” Harry cooly looked towards Ron, taking a sip of tea feeling Gorgo climbing up his back draping herself over his shoulders.

Gorgo was about 2.43 meters (8 feet) in length taller than nearly everyone in the castle (for Hagrid was taller by a few centimeters). While bonding with his two familiars it was different. Hedwig is independent, thus bonding had been a quick process. But with Gorgo… she was quite clingy, but Harry didn’t mind. While bonding took a bit longer, Gorgo loved traveling with her personal heater. For her to fit under Harry’s clothes she was shrunken down before she wrapped around her companion.

“Well, every time she hears about a halfbreed, she acts like…” Ron looked around the common room before lowering his voice “Bellatrix Lestrange. She holds fascination over halfbreeds, but for the wrong reasons. Her look… it looks nearly spot on to how my father described it.”

“But is it right to compare a homicidal criminal to an eleven-year-old girl? And to say that she has a mental disorder when we know next to nothing about each other.” Harry said.

“But I am homicidal. And I probably do have a mental disorder” Hermione said softly, garnering the attention of both Ron and Harry.

“I killed a kid my age when I was younger. He said mean words to me, chopped my hair, and my magic reacted.” Hermione took a heavy gulp of tea. “His head exploded. His hands were chopped.”

She took a deep breath. “When I close my eyes, I can still see how everything played out. I can still hear their cries. I can hear the sirens. But what I still feel the most… is how powerful I felt. And for mental disorders, after all the shit I went through I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Hermione expected them to call a teacher. Abandon her, maybe even hit her.

But instead, she felt a gentle hand touch the top of her hand. “Is this also considered as comforting too? I saw many people do this before.” Harry asked, his malachite eyes looking up at her. Hermione could only stare into those beautiful orbs.

Hermione couldn’t help herself as she felt a blush rise, “I-Yes.” Hermione stuttered. Ron looked down angrily at his mug of tea in jealousy.

“You aren’t the only one who's killed.” Harry said softly. His tea, long since finished, removed his hand from the top of Hermione’s.

“I killed my family. Whether it be directly or indirectly.” Harry said.

“Blimey, you can’t blame yourself for your parents’-” Ron began, looking up for his mug of tea only to be cut off when Harry raised his hand.

“But I’ve killed my aunt, my uncle, and cousin. My magic acted out, I had controlled them to move towards me… I twisted their necks. But… I somehow brought them back to life after. They weren’t the same afterward.” 

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry in amazement.

“You’re a necromancer?” Hermione asked.

“No… it’s something more. I have no idea what but it’s something more.” Harry shrugged.

“I’ve killed too,” Ron said quietly. “I killed before. I’ve always been interested in history. War tactics, strategies… torture methods.”

“Really? Can you teach me some?” Harry genuinely asked, his head tilted sideways allowing his mop of black hair to follow his movements.

“Um, sure,” Ron said slightly put off by Harry’s behavior. “Anyways. As a kid, I was always told not to leave our plot of land…”

_ __Flashback__ _

Ron had a fizzing whizbee in his hand, before opening the window of his room. Having his legs out hanging out the window, while he was perched on the edge of it to keep his balance. Mentally counting down from 3, he jumped out the window, quickly placing the fizzing whizbee in his mouth.

He had been practicing on how quickly it took for Fizzing Whizbee candy to activate. It took two seconds to dissolve, and an extra second to activate. Before he could sustain injuries from his fall the candy had gently worked against the force of gravity, offsetting his plummet to the ground slowing his fall. His feet met the ground softly.

Ron smiled to himself, happy to see his plans work. Quietly crossing the lawn, and passing through the woods that surrounded their house. Walking further for slightly over six kilometers (4 miles), he was finally out in the muggle world. In his pocket, he had inventions of his own perfectly suited for torture that needed to be tested.

But, Ron knew he had to be careful, if he were to grab a wizard, they could easily act against him in self-defense. So, the only way to do this was to find a muggle. But, once again, muggles have weapons. Walking into a slightly bustling street he decided to walk alongside the general flow of pedestrians, looking for his next prey. He stood behind a young couple who, the females, conveniently had red hair.

That was when he saw his victim in front of him, that quickly seemed to be moving at a brisk pace towards him. Ron broke off from the young couple he shadowed behind and walked right in front of the new victim, already placing his looks of sadness, he went into hysterics:

“Can you please help me! I lost my mommy and daddy and I can’t find them!” Ron cried, balling his fist into his eyes snot falling from his nose.

“Oh sweetie, what happened?” The male asked. Hunching his back to be eye level with Ron.

“I lost my mommy and daddy. We were just heading down the street and I got pushed by this one mean man and I lost them!” Ron cried harder.

“Oh! Then we can catch up with them! Hold my hand sweetie.” The man said holding out his hand, dragging Ron further up the street.

The man had brown hair and blue eyes. Which was an odd combination for a muggle.

“My name’s Ron. What’s your name?” Ron asked as he pointed down another street his “parents” had gone down.

“My name’s Ryan. How old are you Ron?” Ryan asked.

“I’m nine. Nearly ten now.” Ron pointed down another street.

Ron almost felt bad for leading this bloke on. But what must be done, must be done. What the man didn’t know was that he was slowly being led to a trap Ron had worked on for months on end. When the trail ended it was a dead end. The man named Ryan looked at him questionably.

“Oh no! I thought it was left instead of right! Can you just call the police Mr.Ryan?” Ron said, now making his waterworks appear again. When Ryan shifted his attention towards his phone, it was when Ron picked up the shovel he stored in a hidden corner.

Ryan had already unlocked his phone and had just begun dialing 999, before he could push enter, he was hit in the head. Falling towards the ground in shock, he felt something being shoved in his mouth, that paralyzed Ryan from his head to his toes.

“Sorry about that Mr.Ryan, but this was necessary.” Ron said as he began dragging his body.

Ryan could only stay awake for two more seconds before succumbing to darkness.

Ryan woke up tied up to a chair, feeling a breeze against his chest, he realized he was shirtless. He could feel a material across his eyes, thus knowing he was blindfolded. He felt a small finger trailing from his belly button upward. Recoiling from the touch he heard the young boy he encountered.

“You certainly are fit, Mr.Ryan.” Ron purred, his eyes raking over his abdomen while taking off Ryan’s blindfold.

“What the fuck are you?” The man spat.

Ron pouted at the man, “That was mean. I have to punish you for that. No cussing.” Ron walked over to a table that held muggle tools and odd gizmos alike.

“Which one shall I use....” Ron said as if he was picking between two candies at the store. “While this one has sharp pointy things on it, it wouldn’t cause enough discomfort for later on.”

“But this one…” Ron picked up a hacksaw, “this one will certainly cause much pain.” Ron looked at it with hooded eyes.

Ryan whimpered as he watched Ron delicately touch the sharp edge of the hacksaw. Setting the hacksaw down, Ron sauntered over to Ryan. Ron looked over at the man tied down in the chair, “But I don’t want you broken and crying now right~.” Ron put his pointer finger underneath his chin.

Ryan spat in his face. Well more like attempting to spit in his face, because he felt a sudden pain on his neck, Ryan yelled as he felt the kid’s blunt teeth dig in deeply of his neck.

“Hearing you screaming. It makes me feel a little funny.” Ron sat on the man’s lap.

“If you try to hurt me, I’ll just make your punishment worse. And to answer your question on who I am…” Ron said sensuously, now gently biting Ryan’s neck. “I am someone you should fear because I am better than you in every way.”

“I just can’t control myself. We are out in the middle of nowhere, and you are my victim. I have the higher ground. NOW MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE!” Ron laughed sinisterly, getting off Ryan’s lap, turning back to his table of tools. 

“I’ve decided to use this tool.” Ron said, his back still facing towards a begging Ryan hefting the odd tool above his own head. “You have never seen this because you have never seen the world I live in. But this tool is a magical tool, it’s used specifically for torture. I stole it from my dear father. It can rip fingernails, toenails, fingers, and toes. It can force your eyeballs open, and tear your eyes from your eye socket if you're determined to do it. I personally want to take those pretty little eyes for myself.”

Ryan was struggling against his bindings, “Please, just let me go! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything you say?” Ron said turning his attention towards Ryan, with a mad gleam in his eyes. “If that’s the case if you want to be set free…”

Ryan nodded quickly, tears of relief appearing in his eyes.

“You must survive the hell I’ll put you through. I worked too hard for this for it to suddenly be in vain. Your pain gives me pleasure.” Ron smiled, seeing Ryan’s hope shatter as tears began to fall.

Ron approached the gizmo held in the right hand looking like those random inventions crazed scientists used in those early movie films. It looked like an odd variation of scissor tongs, but the ends looked like pliers with sharp and jagged ends. Not to mention there were ten of the plier-like ends all attached towards a singular bar that connected the body of the device to the plier-like ends. Latching the device towards all of Ryan’s fingernails, Ryan winced in pain as the contraption had pierced through the tips of his fingers due to his nails being short.

“This device in my world is called The Kosminski, named after Jack the Ripper. I just love his work you know.” Ron said, a sadistic smile appearing over his face after he pulled all 10 of Ryan’s fingernails.

Ryan screamed in pain. He didn’t expect the pain to be as painful as he had thought. He looked down at his fingers to see his own blood filling the tissue-like flesh where his fingernails once were. The amount of force Ron had put, had made some of Ryan’s nails snap, leaving about a length of a pencil tip leftover.

“Hmm, some of the fingernails are still left over.” Ron said, using the moonlight to look down at the ripped fingernails much to Ryan’s horror. Ron dug the device to the nub of Ryan’s fingernails, the bottom half of the plier digging into the sensitive tissue like flesh bringing more blood to be visible. 

“Mercy! Please! I’ll give you money!” Ryan cried, howling in pain as he began to feel Ron tugging at his fingernails once more. The tug was so powerful, Ryan was able to feel the joints in his fingers pop as he felt the stinging pain of the rest of his fingernails finally ripped out.

Ryan’s hands looked close to slightly swollen sausages coated with a dark crimson red. He wasn’t able to grip the arms of his chair in comfort either, as it would worsen the amount of pain he felt.

“And now, your punishment for cursing at me, and attempting to spit at me.” Ron walked back over to the table humming a merry tune to himself, walking back over towards the man tied in the chair, Ryan had read the label.

_ 91% Isopropyl Alcohol _

“I’m sorry! Please forgive me! I’ll be a good boy!”

Ron’s nose crinkled in disgust, “You disgust me! All I did was pull out your fingernails and you’re already broken! Even I would have lasted far longer than you! Vlad, the Impaler’s victims had an actual reason to cry than you!”

Ron opened the bottle and tore off the tampering seal. With a sinister smile, he looked up towards Ryan who was already an emotional wreck. He poured the bottle slowly, enjoying the sounds of the rubbing alcohol hitting the newly exposed skin along with the howls of pain.

“Oh yes, this will be fun indeed.”

**4 hours later**

Ryan's head was bowed down as another wave of pain had hit him. _ What time was it? Where was he? Who am I? _ Ryan thought. He had his fingernails and toenails removed. The bones in his hands, feet, and legs were crushed one by one. His mouth cut open, a line starting from the beginning of his chin, reaching the septum of his nose, making every breath he took stinging. Everything burns.

“What’s one thousand minus seven?” Ron asked, approaching the broken man.

“What?” Ryan asked, blood trailing down his jaw. He spat another glob of red-colored spit towards the ground.

“What is one thousand minus seven? Your survival heavily hinges on your answer.”

“984... 981... No, 986.” 

That was when he felt a hand pushing through his eyelid, a scooping like motion hooking onto the back of his eyeball, hitting the optic nerve. The hand ignored the bone structure surrounding his eye, if not forcing the hand to stretch within it to cause more pain. He could already feel his eyeball nearly fully out the socket. The flashing white and grey lights sparkled over half of his vision. His screams were nothing but a melody to the child, only driving him to cause further discomfort.

And with another yank, his eyeball was out of the socket. Ron looked at the eyeball with rapt attention. Pointing the eyeball towards Ryan, the pupils zeroing in on its owner.

“I see you!” Ron laughed to himself.

“Well… it was fun. But I need to head home before my troll of a mother wakes up. May someone, one day find your body.” 

And Ryan’s world went black forevermore.

_ __End Flashback__ _

“You have some audacity there Ronald!” Hermione angrily whispered towards said ginger. “You torture someone to the brink of death and you say there’s something wrong with  _ me!? _ I can’t believe the hypocrisy of this!” 

“I know… and I’m sorry.” Ron still had his head down.

“And not to mention! Wait what?” Hermione’s face of anger changed into one of surprise.

“I forget that I have done this actually. You see, for many years I hid behind a mask.”

Harry looked towards Ron with an unrecognizable face.

“I play many roles. I play the role of a son, a brother… and hopefully a friend.” Ron looked towards Harry and Hermione.

“But the one role that I’ve never shown others. The one that I must always hide. I play a role so well sometimes, I forget who I truly am.”

“Okay, I’m not trying to say you overshared or anything. But don’t you guys find it odd how close we are getting? It hasn’t even been 24 hours.” Hermione said

“Once again I have to say this,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “My magic has chosen you two as trustworthy. Now, if you don’t mind. I’m heading to bed. I’ve heard enough stories today. Rest well.” Harry stood gracefully from his seat, wiping off imaginary dirt from his shirt before he began to head towards the stair that took him to his dorm.

“Hey, Potter!” Marcus Flint, a fourth-year Slytherin yelled, garnering the quiet room’s attention.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He already knew the snotty brat’s name. Marcus Flint, heir of the Flint family. The Flint family had supported the Dark Lord throughout his reign, along with the family itself largely consisting of purebloods.

_ So he wishes for a confrontation. To make an example out of me, I shall just ignore him.  _ Harry thought, his back still turned against the fourth year.  _ But wait, now is the time that I prove that I am stronger than them… even if it is the fourth year. This way people would leave me alone, and come to respect me at some point along with my comrades. I’ll need to make his defeat swift, to show he is but a fly and not worth my time. _

“I think Potter’s scared everyone! The Boy-Who-Lived! Now face me, child!” Marcus Flint pulled out his wand aiming it towards Harry.

“Do you truly wish to do that Flint?” Harry said softly. “You should know your betters.”

“Betters? I am a pureblood! You’re nothing more than a half-blood, with a whore of a mudblood mother!”

“You say that as if you want a rise out of me… you should know I’m an orphan. And your insult was not even creative, I was expecting a fellow Slytherin to have a sharper tongue than that As for betters, I am the head of the Potter family. One of the founding families of the Wizarding World, worth well more than 20 times your own family name. My magic itself is of a higher caliber than you… how else could I defeat your precious Dark Lord.” Harry drawled, now looking over his shoulder towards Flint.

“Why you little!” With that, a red beam was shot off and headed towards Harry at a rapid pace. But before it could hit him it stopped in midair.

“Oh?” Harry turned around, looking down at the red light examining it. 

“So, not only do you disrespect the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. You disrespect my mother by insinuating that she was a mudblood. And not only that. You shot a spell at me while my back was turned. Two of many highest dishonors in the Wizarding World.”

“Shall I throw this curse back at you? Or shall I do one of my own creations?” The red beam disappeared with the wave of Harry’s hand, shocking the upper years of Slytherin.

At the same time, Harry waved his hand, another spell was shot, streaking all the way to Flint. The spell itself had a blinding white color, many would assume it meant well intentions. But Flint held his head in pain, falling to his knees screaming in agony.

Harry had already charmed the common room with silencing spells and locked the doors to ensure no one was to tell Professor Snape. When Flint began foaming at the mouth, Harry had taken off his hold on the spell.

“Now.” Harry began, ignoring the whimpers from Flint as he rocked himself back and forth. “Let today, be a lesson of those who wish me harm. The same would also apply to my comrades Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.” Harry pointed over to the two who began walking towards Harry, standing behind him.

“If even a word of this reaches anyone outside this very room… I assure you, your survival here shall be the most unpleasant. Let me close today with a very common saying here. Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.” With that, Harry dismantled the charms surrounding the room with another wave of his hand and continued his trek up the stairs with Hermione and Ron following.

All that the other Slytherins could do was watch them walk away with dread pooling in the bottom of their stomachs.

“I’m telling you, Albus. There is something wrong with Potter!” Snape said as he paced around Dumbledore’s office, his cloak billowing behind him.

Dumbledore just stood behind his desk. “Ah, but you must see Severus, I know for a complete fact that everything shall be fine in the end.” Dumbledore said, stroking his pet phoenix Fawkes, that sat on his perch.

“Oh? And how can you be assured of this?”

“We could always wipe the boy’s memory.”

“Albus!”

“It’s just… an option. But don’t worry Severus, we have nothing but time.”


End file.
